Storm Clouds Gathering
by marinawings
Summary: Sequel to Home Fires Burning. Peter, Nathan, Phoebe, Hiro, Claire, and the mysterious John Shoe band together to face a dark and evil threat to humanity in a journey full of adventure, romance, and the supernatural. T for violence.
1. Before the Banquet

I'm so glad to be back at writing Heroes! Hurray! This story will answer a few leftover questions from _Home Fires Burning_ and present some new conflicts for our heroes. Once again, my parents helped me out quite a bit with ideas, so thanks to them. I always love good feedback, so if you enjoy a chapter let me know, and let me know why. I hope you _do _enjoy!

Returning to the Petrelli brothers and Phoebe and the others felt like reuniting with old friends...

Gosh, it's good to be back!

Anyways...

CHAPTER ONE

Nathan Petrelli leaned in the doorway and watched his wife put on her earrings. The deep sapphire blue of her dress accentuated the porcelain tone of her skin and the silky blackness of her hair. She was very beautiful. And very troubled.

"I'll stand by you tonight, Nathan," she said quietly to his reflection in the vanity mirror. "But that's all I can promise."

"I understand," said Nathan softly. He took a step forward into the room. "But I just want you to know that… I've changed."

She turned to look at him, blue eyes probing. "I know."

They faced each other for a moment in silence, then Heidi turned her back to him. "Will you--will you please help me with this necklace?" she asked, her voice controlled, polite... remote.

"Yes," said Nathan, nearing her.

She lifted up both ends of the necklace, holding them over her shoulders until Nathan took them. Her breath left her in a shaky sigh as he moved closer.

"I'm sorry, Heidi," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers shook as he attempted to fasten the clasp. "Everything that happened with Meredith…" His fingers slipped, and he swore. "That was before you."

"I know," said Heidi, her eyes blank in the mirror, her voice carefully modulated.

"And what happened in Vegas… I've told you so many times how sorry I am."

"I know."

Finally, the clasp fastened, but Nathan gently rested his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Will sorry ever be enough?"

His words brought a silence then, and cold seemed to emanate from Heidi like an icy aura.

"You lied to me, Nathan," she said finally, her voice tight and sharp.

Nathan winced, dropped his head, dropped his hands. "I know."

She swept past him and moved toward the door, all beauty and anger and ice. She paused for a moment in the doorway and said quietly, "I'll stand by you tonight, when you introduce… your daughter… to the world. But please… Don't ask me for more than that."

He turned and looked up, meeting her eyes. "I won't."

* * *

"Claire, that dress is gorgeous on you," Sandra Bennett gushed as she stroked Mr. Muggles lovingly. "You look so grown-up." For a moment, her voice faltered and her eyes started to tear, but she managed to pull herself together. "You and that nice Phoebe girl are going to be the belles of the ball."

Twirling in the living room of her family's new home, Claire certainly hoped so. After all, she was going to be the guest of honor. That thought suddenly made her nervous, and she stopped twirling, purple silk rustling as it settled around her. "What will they all think of me?" she asked, looking at her adopted mother with wide, anxious eyes. "Do you think they'll… look down on me because of the way I was born?"

Sandra stood and crossed the carpet, carrying the little dog against her shoulder. She placed her free hand on Claire's shoulder and looked intently into her eyes. "Claire, no one who has ever met you--or who will ever meet you--looks down on you. You are a strong, smart, sweet young lady, and that means so much more than how you are born."

"Thanks, Mom." Claire's smile returned and she took her mother's hand. As she did so, the clock on the mantle caught her eye. "Hurry, Mom! Help me with my make-up! They'll be here in less than an hour!"

* * *

Phoebe Agnew stood staring at herself in the bathroom mirror of her new New York City apartment. She who had faced immense danger, had stood face to face with Sylar and lived--she, Phoebe Agnew, was terrified. Slowly, she reached a trembling hand up to touch her titian hair, which was piled on her head in elaborate loops and coils, with tendrils curling softly around her cheeks. "You can do this, Phoebe," she told her pale reflection. "Breathe."

She took a deep breath, slowly releasing it as she turned from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom, green satin swishing around her long legs.

"Are you okay?"

Peter Petrelli was standing in her living room, dressed in a very nice suit, hands in his pockets, eyes full of concern. Devastatingly handsome.

"I'll be fine. I'm fine. I'm… fine." She managed a weak smile. "I've done this before, remember. Twice or three times. I can't remember which. I'm babbling, but I'm fine. Just fine."

Peter moved quickly to her side. "You don't have to do this, Phoebe. Maybe I shouldn't have even suggested it." He took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. "Just say the word, and I'll call a cab."

"Don't." Her smile broadened, and she leaned into him, savoring his warmth. "You're flying me to the banquet, and that's final. I have to get over my fear if I'm going to be hanging around you Petrellis."

"Hey, don't blame me!" Peter exclaimed, smiling crookedly. "It's Nathan's fault I can fly. Blame Nathan!"

Phoebe grinned wryly. "I'll be sure to do so--after we survive this banquet. You know… We might even enjoy it."

"Possibly." Peter's eyes suddenly went soft and bright, as they were wont to do. "You look so beautiful… I don't think it'll be possible notto be happy when I'm looking at you."

Phoebe's heart melted dramatically. She took Peter's face gently between her hands and stared intensely into his eyes. "Peter… I love you!" she said fiercely. Then she kissed him with a fervent passion. His arms came around her as he returned the kiss, and she murmured a sigh against his lips. "Can we do this while we fly?" she whispered, moving her lips close to his ear.

"Hmmm…" He laughed softly. "It looks like we've been doing that already…"

Phoebe looked down. Her feet were hovering a few inches off the ground. She met Peter's eyes and grinned. "Whoa."

"You're not scared I'll drop you?" he asked quietly, tightening his arms around her waist.

She shook her head, running a hand through his silky dark hair. "Not anymore."

* * *

Hiro Nakamura was standing at a door and holding a red rose. He lifted it to his nose to inhale its fragrance. It reminded him of the girl behind the door--delicate and sweet. "Sasha, I have come for you," he said quietly, raising his free hand to knock on the door.

But before he could knock, it opened, and there stood Sasha in a T-length red dress. Though she could not see him, she smiled. "Hiro."

"Hello, Sasha," said Hiro brightly. "I have come for you. I have rose and limousine."

Sasha's smile broadened, and she stretched out a fine-boned hand. "I'm ready."

Hiro took her hand and led her out of her apartment. "Here is rose," he said, handing her the long-stemmed flower.

Sasha took it and held it to her nose, inhaling deeply. "It's beautiful," she said.

Hiro grinned as he led her down the hall toward the elevator. "You are like the rose, Sasha Kent. You are beautiful in red dress, like red rose petals."

"And I'm sure you look handsome in a tuxedo," said Sasha, touching the soft rose petals to her cheek. "I cannot see you, but…" She bit her lip and blushed lightly, squeezing his hand. "I can feel you."

* * *

"I'm sorry. I didn't--I didn't think about your hair."

Standing in an alley across the street from the banquet hall, Phoebe laughed, reaching up to pat the wind-mussed coils of red-gold. "It's fine, Peter. I didn't think about that, either." The flight had been wonderful. Peter had flown slowly, holding her close. With the stars above her and the lights of the city below her, Phoebe had been in perfect bliss. Smiling at Peter, she reached up to pull the bobby pins out of her hair. "I think I'll just wear it down."

"Here. Let me help." He moved to stand behind her, then began to gently slip the pins out of her hair.

_What on earth did I do to deserve this guy? _she wondered, closing her eyes. _Thank-you, God, for Peter._

"There." He shoved the pins into the pocket of his jacket and turned her to face him, smiling softly and crookedly. "I like your hair down." He reached to brush a strand back from her face.

"Thank-you." She reached to take his hand. "Shall we go?"

He nodded and took her hand, and they turned together to face the street.

Just before they reached the road, Peter stopped walking, eyes widening.

"What is it?" Phoebe asked, suddenly alert.

He did not answer, but turned to look back into the alley. Phoebe followed his line of vision. Standing in the shadows of the alley, barely visible, was what looked like a large dog.

"What's wrong, Peter?" Phoebe asked, frowning confusedly at him.

Peter tore his eyes from the dog and met her frown. "Remember how I said I would one day tell you where I was when I disappeared after the explosion?"

"Yes…"

"Well, I think I'm going to tell you tonight, after the banquet." He looked deeply into her eyes for a moment, then abruptly released her hand. "Go on to the banquet. I'll be there in a minute." He turned and started walking back into the alley.

"Peter! What's going on?" Phoebe called after him, turning toward the alley. The dog had vanished, but Peter kept walking. A chill ran up Phoebe's spine.

"Find Nathan. Stay close to him," Peter called back to her, breaking into a jog.

"Peter! Wait!" Phoebe started to follow.

"No, Phoebe!" he exclaimed, spinning to face her. "I'll be right along. Go find Nathan. Stick close to him."

Phoebe sighed in frustration. She wanted desperately to know what was going on with Peter. "Peter, let me come with you!"

"I _can't_, Phoebe." He sounded as frustrated as she felt. "Just… Find Nathan and the others. Tell them I said to stay close together."

"Peter…"

"Go." And then he vanished.

Phoebe pressed her lips tightly together, suddenly shaky inside. _I thought we were safe. We were fine. Sylar is gone… So what's going on now? _Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face the road. _I hope Nathan can help me sort this out…_

* * *

"Mr. Petrelli."

Nathan turned from one of the guests to face Wyatt. The troubled look on the gardener's face warned him that something was wrong. "What is it?"

"I need to speak with you privately," Wyatt said quietly.

Nathan flashed the guest an apologetic smile. "Excuse me." Then he followed Wyatt to a quieter corner of the steadily filling ballroom, casting an anxious glance to where Claire stood with Heidi. Both women were smiling at guests, but their smiles were tight, Nathan could tell.

"Mr. Petrelli, something has happened," Wyatt said, drawing his attention.

"What is it? What's going on?" Nathan asked, crossing his arms and feeling just a bit impatient.

"I'm not sure, but I think it has to do with Peter and Phoebe," said the gardener, frowning concernedly.

Nathan closed his eyes momentarily. _Oh no. _

"I got a very slight flash of the past," Wyatt explained. "Peter and Phoebe were flying--"

"Flying?" Nathan raised an eyebrow. "She's terrified of flying these days!"

"Well, they were flying," Wyatt continued. "They landed across the street from this very building, and then, there was darkness. I sensed something… dark."

Nathan could feel his heart beating in his chest--fast and hard. It was true that Peter and Phoebe had not shown up yet, but it was still early. He had not worried about them. Now he wondered if maybe he should… "We need to find them. Now."

"Yes, sir." Wyatt nodded slowly. "I'll go check the front door now." He moved past his boss, then made his way across the floor.

Nathan stood in the corner for a moment, steeling himself for trouble, then took a deep breath and started toward one of the doors of the ballroom. He made his way into the hall, then headed toward the exit, hoping no one had noticed his exit. Oddly, the hall lights were turned off, and there was no one in sight. That made him nervous.

"Nathan!"

The exclamation made him jump, then he sighed with relief when Phoebe burst into the hall from an obscure exit. "Phoebe, I was worried sick. What the--"

"Nathan, Peter just--just disappeared and told me to stick close to you, and there was this dog and it disappeared, and then Peter just left me and told me to find you, and--" She ran up to him and grabbed onto his shoulders, green eyes wide. "I don't know what to do!"

"Calm down," said Nathan, feeling hypocritical as he said the words. Well, it wouldn't be the first time. He gently patted Phoebe's arm and tried to affect an air of control. "Take a deep breath and tell me exactly what happened."

"Peter flew me here, and then we--"

"He flew you? You're over that now?"

Phoebe nodded. "Yes. It was fun. But anyway, we were walking toward this building, when suddenly he stopped, and he said for me to go ahead without him."

"And you refused," said Nathan.

"Yes. I did." Phoebe raised an eyebrow, seeming impatient.

"Sorry. Go on."

"There was this dog in the alley, and then it wasn't there. And I got a weird feeling. Then Peter disappeared--on purpose, I think, so I couldn't follow him."

"Not surprising."

"And he told me to stick close to you, for all of us to stick close," Phoebe finished. "Nathan, we _have _to find him."

"Again." He rolled his eyes.

"This is _serious._" Phoebe gave his shoulders a shake. "Stop pretending that you're not bothered by this. I _know_ you are."

Nathan met her intense stare and sighed. "You're right. This bothers me." He took her hands from his shoulders and held them, looking sincerely into her eyes. "We'll find him, Phoebe. We'll get Wyatt and Hiro, and we'll go after him if we have to."

Phoebe managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Nathan. I was hoping you'd know what to do."

"Ahem."

Nathan and Phoebe turned, the former wincing inwardly and quickly releasing Phoebe's hands when he saw who was standing in the hallway.

Angela Petrelli folded her arms over her chest, raising one eyebrow. It seemed that it was the night for eyebrow raising. "So. What are the two of you doing out here in this dark hallway while you should be in the ballroom? Especially you, Nathan."

"Ma, this isn't what you think," Nathan said quickly. "Phoebe had something important to tell me." He glanced at Phoebe, who was narrowing her eyes on him, lips pressed tightly together. He was sure he knew exactly what was on her mind. He needed no mind-reading power to guess that: _Be a man, Nathan. Stand up to your mom. You've done it before. Do it again. Don't let her push you around._

"Phoebe, where's Peter?" Angela asked, ignoring Nathan's reply.

"That's just it, Mrs. Petrelli," said Phoebe, lifting her chin and smiling politely. "Nathan and I were discussing his whereabouts just as you entered the hallway."

Nathan had to fight to keep from smiling. Phoebe could certainly hold her own. She was just the sort of girl he would pick for Peter. And thinking of Peter… He sighed inwardly, his heart constricting with worry.

"And where is he?" Angela asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Nathan? Are you out here?"

Phoebe was saved from having to answer by the entrance of Heidi into the hallway. Nathan suddenly felt claustrophobic at being surrounded by the three women.

Heidi's eyes met his, then moved to take in Angela and Phoebe. "Senator Brewster is here. He's looking for you. You know how he is."

Nathan smiled tightly at her. "Alright. I'm coming. Mother, Phoebe, will you join us?"

Phoebe nodded, swallowing. "Sure."

"Of course," said Angela calmly.

The four of them entered the ballroom together, Nathan flanked by his mother and his wife, with Phoebe trailing behind. Before Senator Brewster could bear down on him, Nathan tossed Phoebe a furtive glance. She did not notice. She did not even seem to be aware of Claire, who was approaching her. Phoebe was standing there in the middle of the marble floor, hugging herself and looking over her shoulder. _Of course. She was still looking for Peter._

* * *

"John? Is that you?" Peter stepped slowly through the opened door of the tiny townhouse. It was so dark inside. "John?" He reached out with his powers, sensing a familiar presence on the other side of the shadowy living room.

"I'm--I'm here," came an agonized voice. "Stop, Peter. Don't come any closer. You're my friend. I don't want to hurt you. It's not safe yet."

Peter stopped walking. "What happened, John? Are you okay?"

There was a dusky beam of light across the floor, coming from a streetlight just outside the window. Two slim, long-fingered hands reached into the light, toward Peter. "I still have my hands, you see. They are always the first and the last to change. Mostly, they never change."

"John, maybe I can help you," Peter said, taking a tentative step forward.

"No! Go back!" The hands made a frantic motion. "I just… I just wanted to check on you. I felt so bad for leaving you there all those weeks ago, after I found you. And you were like me. I'll never forget that. You were like me… Different."

"Special," Peter said quietly.

"Different," John countered. His voice was distant and sad. "I had to make sure you were alright. You were my friend."

"I still am, John," said Peter, shaken up inside at the state of the man who had aided him after the Kirby Plaza incident, the man who had vanished without a trace not long after saving Peter's life.

"I've met some--some people now. I think they're going to help me. They said they can. So… I'm glad you're alright. You were with a girl…" The voice was wistful now. "She was very beautiful. Such lovely hair."

"Yes." Peter could not help but smile. "That's Phoebe."

"And she loves you?"

"Yes."

"You love her. I don't have to ask that. I can tell."

"We're going to a banquet tonight. Well, she's already there." Peter took another step forward, his heart going out to the other man. "You can come with me. You can meet her there."

"No. No. Just… Leave me, Peter."

Peter frowned. "I don't want to, John. You saved my life. Let me help you."

The hands shrank back into the shadows. "Go to your banquet, Peter. Your lady is waiting."


	2. Interruptions

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! By the way, I forgot to explain that everyone has moved to New York now. Silly me.

_Previously on Heroes: Storm Clouds Gathering: _The heroes are preparing for Claire's introduction into New York society as the daughter of Nathan Petrelli. Nathan and Heidi are at an awkward point in their relationship, while Peter and Phoebe are flourishing as a couple, and Hiro and Sasha are beginning to look at each other differently. Peter flies Phoebe to the banquet hall, helping her get over her fear of flying. When they start walking toward the building, Peter suddenly turns around and looks at a dog in the alley, then tells Phoebe that there's something he has to do--and it deals with his disappearance after the explosion. Promising to explain more later, he disappears so she can't follow him. Phoebe quickly finds Nathan, who has been warned by Wyatt that something is going on. While Phoebe is explaining Peter's disappearance to Nathan, Angela and Heidi happen upon them and seemingly come to the wrong conclusions. Meanwhile, Peter has gone to find an old friend, apparently the one who aided him after the Kirby Plaza incident. John, his friend, stays in the shadows and tells Peter that he was just checking on him, then urges Peter to return to the banquet, telling him that he's found someone who can help him with his problems.

CHAPTER TWO

"Phoebe, is everything okay?" Claire asked, studying the face of her friend closely.

Phoebe glanced at the younger girl. "No," she said softly, green eyes wide.

Claire placed a hand on Phoebe's arm. "Where's Peter?" she asked quietly, intensely.

"He left." Phoebe glanced around. The ballroom was slowly filling up with guests. Nathan stood near the door, greeting them, his mother and his wife at his side. He briefly met Phoebe's gaze and gave her a cautioning look. She turned her eyes back to Claire. "Something is going on. Something bad, I think. Peter wouldn't let me follow him. I think it has something to do with what happened to him after the explosion."

Claire's eyes widened. "Oh."

Angela suddenly approached the two girls. "Phoebe, Claire…" She stretched out a welcoming hand. "Come with me. There are some guests who wish to meet you. Remember, Claire, you need to make a good impression for the sake of your father."

"That's right," said Claire, lifting her chin and steadily meeting Angela's eyes. "For the sake of my father."

Phoebe caught the implied "not for you."

Apparently, Angela did, too. She pressed her lips together, seeming at an uncharacteristic loss for words. Finally, she rallied. "Well, come on, then."

Claire walked past her grandmother in the direction of Nathan and Heidi, head held high, shoulders squared.

Phoebe had to smile. There was a bit of Nathan in his daughter after all…

"Phoebe." Angela's hand suddenly wrapped around Phoebe's forearm, and her eyes were intense. "Where is Peter? Where is my son?"

"I don't know," said Phoebe, feeling helpless and useless and oddly sorry for Angela. "I wish I did."

For a moment, the two women locked gazes.

"I love him," Phoebe said finally.

Angela's lips twitched. "I know." Then she turned from Phoebe and moved to join the others.

Phoebe followed quietly in the older woman's footsteps. _These Petrelli's! So complicated!_

* * *

Peter walked out of John's house with a heavy heart. He felt utterly useless. Surely there was something he could do to help John… He shook his head and sighed, then concentrated and teleported himself into the alley across the street from the banquet hall. From the shadows, he watched as Hiro and Sasha alighted from a limousine and made their careful way up the steps of the hall. Surely together, the heroes could figure out a way to help John…

Trying not to think of the sad state of his friend, Peter took a deep breath and quickly crossed the road. Just as he was heading up the steps, a sharp breeze whipped around him. He shivered, suddenly filled with an inexplicable trepidation. The dark sky lit up briefly with a flash of lightning, and thunder boomed in the distance.

Peter frowned. He had not heard that there was supposed to be a storm.

Thunder rumbled again, and to Peter, it sounded oddly like laughter…

"Peter!"

He looked up. "Wyatt! How is the banquet going?"

The tall black man reached the younger man's side and walked with him the rest of the way up the steps. "Your brother and Miss Phoebe are really worried about you, Peter." His dark eyes were solemn. "You need to be careful. Some things you just shouldn't deal with alone."

Peter shrugged and patted his old friend's shoulder. "It was nothing. Just… There was someone I really needed to talk to."

"Okay, Peter. Whatever you say…"

"Peter!" Nathan descended upon him just before he could enter the ballroom. The elder Petrelli glanced over his shoulder, making sure Claire and Phoebe were covering for him--and that they had not noticed Peter's appearance. Satisfied, he quickly turned to Peter, slipping an arm around his brother's shoulders. "What's going on, Pete?"

"Nathan, there's someone who needs our help," Peter told his brother sincerely. "He helped me after I--after the whole exploding thing. He protected me. And now I think he's in trouble."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "What kind of trouble?"

"He's got a power, too, Nathan," Peter told him quietly. "And he has a hard time controlling it. He says he's found some people who can help him, but… I've got a bad feeling about that."

Nathan's lips quirked in a wry grin. "Are you listening to the Force or something?"

"I'm _serious_, Nathan," Peter insisted.

Nathan patted his younger brother's back. "I know. And so is Phoebe--serious with worry for you. You need to come inside and reassure her that everything is fine. And we can talk about your friend after the banquet."

Peter smiled crookedly. "Thanks, Nathan."

"No problem, Pete." Nathan walked ahead of his brother into the banquet hall.

As soon as Peter entered the hall, he was met by an exclamation of, "Peter!" Phoebe came rushing to him and flung her arms around him. Smiling, he wrapped his around her as well.

"See? Everything's okay," he told her quietly.

She held him for a few moments longer, then drew back slightly to meet his eyes, studying his face closely. "Peter… What's going on? Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Peter nodded. "I know. I'll tell you after the banquet. I think Nathan's gonna help."

Phoebe sighed with relief, then turned and flashed Nathan a grateful grin.

"Come on, you two," Nathan said, motioning to Peter and Phoebe. "It's almost time for Claire's introduction."

* * *

Hiro was not really sure how he and Sasha managed to arrive late, but they did. Giggling, they hurried out of the limousine and up the steps, Hiro leading Sasha carefully. Quieting their laughter, they slipped in the front door of the banquet hall just as Nathan was stepping forward to officially introduce Claire to the world as his daughter.

Hiro was excited. Cameras were flashing at the Petrelli family and Phoebe, and everyone was eager to hear what Nathan had to say. Hiro flashed Claire an encouraging smile, and she grinned back.

"We all make mistakes in our lives," Nathan was saying, his voice resonant and sincere, holding the crowd riveted. "But sometimes, blessings can come from mistakes. Tonight, I want to introduce you to one of the biggest blessings of my life." He took Claire's hand and drew her to his side. "Everyone, this is my daughter, Claire Bennet."

Claire looked down for a moment, blushing at the surprised exclamations from the crowd, then raising her head with a smile as they began to applaud. From the look she gave Peter, Hiro deduced that Claire's uncle had been the one to start the applause.

The guests began pressing close to Claire, all vying to speak to her. Nathan calmly exerted control, keeping the crowd from overwhelming his daughter.

"Hiro!"

Hiro grinned. "Peter Petrelli! How are you?"

* * *

He watched from the shadows as the people in the ballroom started to dance. The girl, Claire, had chosen this activity, he was sure. It was her party, after all. He watched as she danced in her father's arms, her eyes wide, their expression caught between hope and doubt. From across the room, the congressman's wife watched, arms crossed. Every once in awhile, she faked a smile at one of the guests, but clearly, she was uneasy.

The watcher grinned crookedly. Interesting.

His attention was caught by the little Asian man and the slender girl whose eyes stared off into nothingness. Obviously, she was blind. They danced rather clumsily around the marble floor, laughing and seeming to enjoy themselves greatly. A cute couple, to be sure.

Another couple also stood out from the crowd. For a moment, something clenched in the watcher's heart as he studied them. Their eyes were locked in a powerful gaze, and something about the way they held each other made him think that there was a transcendent, unearthly love between them. Then the watcher realized that this was _her. _He should have noticed her resemblance to the photograph in the file in his hands, and also her resemblance to the other one, the woman he had met in Canada. He watched her dance with the congressman's younger brother for a moment longer, then realized that he himself was being watched, by Angela Petrelli.

He quickly tore his gaze from the couple and walked casually toward one of the food tables, hoping to avoid the piercing gaze of the Petrelli matriarch. He glanced over his shoulder quickly to ascertain the position of Claire Bennet, his hands tightening on the file.

* * *

Claire was beginning to feel more at ease dancing with Nathan. Naturally, he was a superb dancer, and Claire was glad she had brushed up on her dancing skills with her mother and Mr. Muggles a few days before the banquet.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Claire?" Nathan asked as the music began to change.

Claire nodded, smiling. "I am." The orchestra began to play an instrumental version of a sixties hit, "Baby, I Need Your Lovin.'" Claire loved that song.

For a while, father and daughter danced in silence, then Claire looked up at Nathan, steadily held his gaze, and whispered softly, "Thank-you."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For thinking of me. For doing all this." She studied his face closely. "You care. I know that now. I wasn't so sure… before."

"You changed me, Claire," Nathan said quietly, looking down and away from her eyes. "You and Peter. You taught me how to…" He looked up, smile back in place, and they finished the dance in silence. As soon as the song ended, Nathan asked, "Would you like to try some of the food? After all, you picked it out."

Claire smiled gratefully at him. "Sure. Let's get some."

Nathan led his daughter across the floor to one of the food tables. "I did add one item to the menu because it… Well, it made me think of you." He had an odd look on his face, his expression both sheepish and proud. With flourish, he brandished a plate of sweets. "Voila! Chocolate éclair."

Claire giggled, surprised and touched. "How clever!"

"I thought so," said Nathan. Sheepishness was gone, and pride remained in the form of a smug smile.

As she sampled the éclair with Nathan, Claire made up her mind that she could really get to like the man. In fact, she decided they could be friends…

"Nathan."

Claire felt a surge of nervousness as Heidi approached the food table.

"Yes, darling?" Nathan asked politely as Heidi placed a hand on his shoulder.

"May I have the next dance?" Heidi asked, her eyes uncertain.

Nathan glanced quickly at Claire, and she gave him the tiniest of nods. "Certainly," said Nathan, turning back to his wife. He winked at Claire. "Don't go far."

She gave him a smile. "I won't."

And then he was back on the dance floor, this time with Heidi.

Claire sighed, both pleased that her moment with Nathan had gone so well and disappointed that it had ended so soon. She hovered near the desserts, smiling at curious guests and watching the others dance. Hiro and Sasha giggled and stumbled around the dance floor, while Nathan and Heidi danced professionally, but without looking at each other, and Peter and Phoebe glided dreamily, caught up in the romance of the moment. Slowly, Claire made her way to one of the huge, heavily draped windows and peered out between the red velvet curtains. She had expected to see stars and the moon, but instead, she caught a glimpse of dark clouds.

Suddenly, while she was still looking out the window, she felt someone slip something into her hand. She started to turn.

"Don't move!" a man's voice whispered harshly. "Read it. Now."

Frowning, fingers trembling, Claire looked at what had been placed in her hand. It was a yellow paper folder. Slowly, worriedly, she opened it. The first page in the file was titled "John Shoe," and a photograph was clipped to it, the photograph of a man with unruly brown hair and very sad dark eyes. Impatiently, Claire flipped the page, then stared in surprise.

Clipped to the second page was a picture of Phoebe, wearing her favorite pink trench coat and a multi-colored scarf. Claire began to read, and she soon realized that this was a Company document. Obviously, the Company had been shadowing Phoebe.

Claire spun around, angry and full of questions, but there was no one there. Pressing her lips tightly together, she looked back down at the page and continued to read. Something she read on Phoebe's page made her gasp, eyes widening. "So Phoebe is--"

"What are you reading, Claire?"

Claire looked up. Angela was standing in front of her, one eyebrow raised. "Uhm… I'm not actually sure. Someone just… gave this to me." She hesitated, unsure of Angela's intentions.

"Let me see it, Claire." Angela held out a hand.

Instinctively, Claire drew the folder closer to herself and took a step backward.

Angela sighed impatiently. "Claire, if that has anything to do with the Company, then I probably already know everything in it."

Claire wavered for a few seconds, then handed the documents to her grandmother. "Did you already know? About Phoebe?" she asked, watching as Angela flipped through the file.

Angela smiled wryly and met her granddaughter's eyes. "Of course. I've always known."

* * *

Sasha was waiting for Hiro at the punch table. He had hurried off to fetch her some cake, and already she was impatient. She was finding it harder and harder to enjoy herself without the sweet little man at her side. She tapped her high-heeled shoes rhythmically against the marble, keeping time with the small orchestra across the room. They were excellent. Sasha had always appreciated good music.

Suddenly, someone, a man she thought, brushed past her. "Excuse me," he mumbled, patting her elbow.

That touch sent sensations of trouble and mischief running up her arm. Sasha was instantly alert, listening for any other sign of the man, but there was none. He was gone. The blind girl felt her heartbeat speed up. That man had dangerous intentions; she had felt it in his touch. And it had something to do with the heroes gathered at the banquet…

"Come on, Hiro! Where are you?" she muttered worriedly. Now she had _another reason for wishing he would return._


	3. Identity

_Previously on Heroes (Storm Clouds Gathering): _Peter finally shows up at the banquet, accompanied by an odd storm. Hiro and Sasha arrive just in time to hear Nathan's speech introducing Claire as his daughter. When the heroes begin to dance, someone watches them from the shadows. Claire dances with Nathan, then takes a break, and is approached by someone who won't let her see him. This mystery person hands her a folder of documents, including dossiers on John Shoe and Phoebe. The Company has been watching them. And something in Phoebe's dossier surprises Claire, something that Angela already knows. Meanwhile, Sasha is standing alone waiting for Hiro to return with cake when someone brushes past her, and she senses trouble...

This is kind of a short chapter. It's something of a filler, but there are some interesting revelations in it.

CHAPTER THREE

Phoebe and Peter finally stopped dancing. For a moment, they just stood there on the sidelines of the dance, and he found himself smiling uncontrollably.

"It was like flying," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded absently, caught up in the greenness of her irises, the glints of red in the gold of her hair, the way her eyebrows raised just before she smiled. That was always the tell…

"So…" She tilted her head to the side, clasping her hands in front of her. "What are we going to do now?"

Before Peter could answer, they were approached by Claire and Angela, an unlikely pair, Peter thought with a pang. Ever since Nathan had told him about Angela's plans for the explosion in New York City, he had felt awkward around his mother. He was sure Claire felt similarly cautious toward the domineering woman.

"Phoebe…" Claire glanced at Peter, then fixed her gaze on the other girl. "There's something I need to show you."

Phoebe's eyes widened, and the glow of romance fled from her face. "What is it?" she asked cautiously, glancing over Claire's shoulder at Angela, who had not moved her eyes from Phoebe's face.

"Here. Take a look." Claire handed Phoebe an opened folder, and the older girl took it with hesitant hands.

Peter moved closer to Phoebe. "What's going on?" he asked, addressing the question to his mother.

"Someone uninvited showed up," Angela replied, crossing her arms over her chest in a motion that reminded Peter of his brother. "And he gave this file to Claire. I don't know how he got in without anyone noticing."

Phoebe suddenly gasped, and Peter quickly turned his attention to her. "What is it?" he asked, placing a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder.

Phoebe looked up from the folder and met his eyes. "Peter… I--I have a sister."

Peter frowned, confused. "But… I thought you were an only child."

"I did, too." She swallowed, smiling weakly. "I was wrong." She looked quickly to Claire. "So you've met her?"

Claire nodded.

"And what--what's she like?"

Claire hesitated for a moment. "Well… You're nothing like her. And that's a good thing."

"What's going on?" Peter asked, moving between the two girls. "Phoebe, who's your sister?"

Phoebe met his gaze with bewildered eyes. "Peter, Claire is my niece, too."

"What!?"

Angela spoke up, then, in a calm, unsurprised voice. "Phoebe's elder sister is Meredith Gordon, Claire's biological mother."

* * *

"Hiro!" Sasha grabbed the little hero's arm. "Someone who is here has… bad intentions. He wants to cause trouble." She kept her voice at a whisper. "Do you see anyone around us, watching us?"

Hiro's eyes widened, and he looked around, taking Sasha's hands. "I see no one suspicious," he told her.

Sasha's hands tightened convulsively on his arm. "We've got to tell the others. We may all be in danger."

* * *

Sipping punch, Heidi looked over the rim of her glass at her husband, her eyes quizzical. He was surprising her tonight.

"What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She shook her head and swallowed the punch. "Nothing."

Surprising her once again, he moved closer to her and possessively took hold of her upper arm. "Darn it, Heidi, tell me," he whispered forcefully in her ear.

She met his eyes, and her own were wide. "I didn't--I didn't think you… cared… anymore…"

His grip on her arm loosened, his thumb absently tracing patterns on her skin. "I--I've always cared," he said softly, looking down.

Heidi frowned. "Have you?"

He looked up and into her eyes. "Yes. I just… Sometimes I didn't act like it." For a moment, his gaze was so intense, Heidi was sure he would kiss her, then suddenly, he looked over her shoulder and frowned.

"What is it?" she asked quickly.

"Something's going on," Nathan said. "Come on." He took her free hand and led her across the floor to where Peter, Phoebe, Claire, and Angela were all gathered around a yellow file folder.

* * *

"Peter Petrelli!" Hiro patted his friend's arm, eyes wide behind his glasses. "We may be in danger!"

Peter turned quickly to the little hero, feeling quite overwhelmed by the events of the night. "What do you mean, Hiro?"

Hiro drew Sash forward, and the blind girl spoke. "A man brushed past me, a stranger," she told the others, frowning. "And I felt… trouble in his touch. Mischief. Hidden intent." She shrugged. "I don't know where he went. If I touched him again, though, I would know."

Angela cleared her throat then, drawing everyone's attention. "There was a stranger watching the rest of you while you danced. A young man with blond hair."

At that moment, Nathan and Heidi joined the group. "What's going on?" Nathan asked quickly.

Mutely, Phoebe handed him the folder, and he narrowed his eyes on her. "What's going on, Phoebe?"

"Just read it," she said quietly. "It's the fifth bullet."

Nathan's eyes widened as he read. He looked up quickly from the file, first looking at Phoebe, then Claire, then narrowing his eyes on his mother. "Did you know this, Ma?"

Angela nodded shortly. "I've always known."

"So that's why--" Phoebe quickly cut her sentence short, biting her lip.

"So that's why what?" Angela asked, crossing her arms and glancing at Phoebe impatiently.

"When we--when we first met, you knew my last name," said Phoebe quietly. "And you, uhm, thought I was, uhm, Nathan's… Thought I was with Nathan." _Gosh, this is awkward. I always slip up and say the most embarrassing things around Angela Petrelli._

"So what, exactly, is going on here?" Heidi spoke up, hands on her hips.

"Phoebe is my aunt," Claire said proudly, moving closer to said hero. "On my mother's side."

Heidi's mouth formed a silent "oh," then she looked at Nathan expectantly.

"I didn't know," Nathan told her.

"None of us did," Peter added.

"Except for our mother," Nathan finished.

"My parents never told me," Phoebe said suddenly, quietly, her eyes defocused. "I have a sister, and they never told me. Why? Why did they never tell me?" She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Hey, Phoebe, you okay?" Peter asked, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. "Yes. I'm just… shocked."

"And also, there is danger," Hiro spoke up, turning to Nathan and Heidi. "Mysterious man has been watching us."

"He was probably the one who gave Claire the folder," Phoebe said, still keeping her eyes shut.

Nathan glanced around the circle, noting Peter's worried frown, Phoebe's paleness, Claire's eyes looking to him with expectance, Hiro's wide eyes, Sasha's utter stillness, and Heidi's wondering eyes, fixed on him, of course. "I think it's time to call it a night," he announced firmly.

"One more song," Claire spoke up, her voice pleading. "Just one. That is, if everyone feels up to it. Then we can eat and go... home and discuss all this."

The others all nodded, except for Nathan, who frowned, and Angela, who had quietly slipped out of the circle.

"I think it'd be a good thing to end Claire's party on a happy note," Peter said.

Nathan pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes on his little brother. Peter met his eyes unwaveringly. Nathan sighed. "Alright. You win. One more dance."

"I think I'll sit this one out," Heidi said quietly, gently touching Nathan's arm.

He looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Dance with your daughter," she said.

* * *

The final song was a beautifully orchestrated version of Elvis Pressley's "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You."

Peter held Phoebe gently as they danced, for he felt she was very fragile at this moment.

"Peter, I'm fine," she whispered in his ear.

"No you're not," he replied, reaching to brush a strand of golden hair from her cheek. "You're hurting right now."

She looked away from him, looked down at her silver high heels, biting her lip.

"I wish--I wish I could take it for you," Peter said quietly.

She looked back up at him and smiled. "I know."

"I'm sorry they never told you." He kissed her forehead lightly. He laughed a bit, then. "Wouldn't it have been weird if Nathan had stayed with… your sister? Then we would have been brothers dating sisters."

Phoebe giggled, a bit hysterically, and kissed Peter soundly.


	4. Suspicious Minds

_Previously on Heroes (Storm Clouds Gathering)_: Everyone (except for Angela) is surprised to discover that Phoebe is the sister of Meredith Gordon, which makes her the aunt of Claire. Hiro and Sasha warn the others of the uninvited guest and Sasha's sense of trouble, so the banquet comes to a quick end, but not before one final dance...

And that's about it. It was a short chapter, I know. This one's longer.

Anyways, thanks so much to my readers, and even more to those who both read and review! Your encouragement keeps this procrastinator on her toes... or, more fittingly, on the tips of her fingers, typing like mad.

CHAPTER FOUR

"John Shoe… This is your friend, Peter?" Nathan held up the picture of the man with sad eyes.

Peter nodded. "That's him. I guess the Company's been watching him, too."

They were all sitting in the den of the Petrelli mansion, all but Angela, who had plead a headache and quickly retired to bed.

"And they watch Phoebe Agnew, too," Hiro spoke up.

"Yay," said Phoebe dully. She looked tired, Peter thought.

"So… Let me get this straight," Heidi said, looking around at the others. "John Shoe, Peter's friend, turns into a… doglike/wolf-like creature with… hands?"

"Right," said Peter and Nathan. Then they looked at each other, with matching crooked grins.

"And the Company, this hero-hunting organization that your mother was a part of and perhaps is _still _a part of, is watching him… and Phoebe."

"Yes," the brothers replied again.

"And this… watcher… who brushed past Sasha is probably from the Company?"

"I expect so," said Sasha. She was sitting very close to Hiro, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, as if drawing from his strength. She probably was doing that very thing.

"And we need to help John Shoe, because he helped Peter after that… explosion," Heidi continued.

"Right," said the Petrelli brothers.

"Man, stop doing that!" Peter exclaimed, giving Nathan a playful punch in the shoulder. He was sitting next to his brother on the biggest couch, with Phoebe on his other side, and Heidi on the other side of Nathan.

"You're the mind reader, not me," Nathan shot back wryly. "You're the one who knows what I'm going to say."

"Can we--can we make a decision?" Claire spoke up impatiently. She was leaning forward, elbows on her knees, fingers twisting together nervously.

"Well does anyone have any ideas?" asked Nathan, looking around at the others.

"I'd like to get in touch with my parents," Phoebe said quietly, not meeting his eyes. "But… They're traveling, something to do with Dad's work… I guess their cell phones don't have a signal or something." She sighed shakily. "So…" She finally looked up, meeting Peter's warm dark eyes first, then looking at Nathan. "I think I'd like to meet… my sister."

"But none of us knows where she is," Claire replied, crossing her arms.

"Peter could," Phoebe said quietly, turning her head to look at him. Her green eyes were pleading. "Could you find her, Peter?'

Peter nodded. "I could, I think."

"And I can teleport you!" Hiro suggested brightly.

"It's a thought," said Claire. "And if Phoebe goes… I'd like to go, too. There are a few things I'd like to ask my… Meredith Gordon."

* * *

It was decided that, for safety, everyone would spend the night at the Petrelli mansion. Phoebe felt a strong sense of déjà vu as she rolled her suitcase into the bedroom she had slept in the day she met Peter for the first time. That was a day she would never forget: meeting Peter, meeting Hiro in the coffee shop, getting attacked in her hotel room, discovering that the Petrelli brothers could fly… She smiled and shook her head. And here she was again, far more involved with them than she had ever expected. Nathan was fast becoming one of her best friends, and Peter… Her smile broadened, softened. She could not bear to think about a life without Peter…

"Are you doing alright, Phoebe?" came the familiar voice from behind her.

She quickly slid her suitcase to a stop beside the nightstand and turned to face Peter, the man she loved. "I think I'll be alright. I'm just…" She sighed, and even her memories could not hold off the sudden anxiety. "I don't know what to do about… my family. I love my parents, Peter. They've never lied to me before." She laughed tightly. "They never even told me there was a Santa Claus."

Peter crossed his arms and leaned on the door post. "You never believed in Santa Claus?"

Phoebe could not help but smile at the shocked look in his gorgeous eyes. "No. Never."

Peter sighed. "I'm sorry. Off the subject. Phoebe… Is there anything I can do?"

She shook her head, then nodded. "No… I mean, yes. You've already done so much just being you. Just keep… being you." Her voice faltered.

"Come here," he said softly, stepping into the room. He held out his arms, then drew her close when she came to him, folding his arms around her protectively. "Let me be your strength," he whispered.

Phoebe nodded into his chest, but could say nothing, for fear she would cry.

"I love you," Peter said, his voice low and intense.

She looked up into his eyes, tears slowly trickling from her own. Still she could not speak, so she nodded.

And he understood. "I know you do," he whispered. Then he softly kissed her lips.

* * *

Phoebe awoke a little after two o'clock in the morning and could not go back to sleep. Her mind raced with frantic thoughts of her long lost sister and of her parents, who had concealed the truth. Groaning, she sat up and threw back the soft covers of the bed. She stretched slowly, then got out of bed and grabbed her silky blue robe from the nightstand and slipped it on. Tiptoeing on bare feet, she went to the door and quietly turned the handle. She opened the door and slipped out, making her way toward the nearest bathroom.

Once inside it, she splashed quietly closed the door behind her and turned on the faucet. Something about the sound of running water soothed her, and she leaned on the sink, bowing her head and closing her eyes. Then she sighed and bent forward, splashing water on her face. She had always done this as a child when she could not sleep, and the old ritual made her feel more like herself and less… different.

"You can handle this, Phoebe," she told herself, shutting off the water and looking at her wide-eyed reflection in the mirror. "I'm sure there's a great explanation for why your parents never told you about your sister…" She turned from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom, reaching back with her telekinesis to switch off the light.

"Phoebe."

She jumped and spun around, covering her mouth quickly to hold back a scream. When she saw who stood in the shadows behind her, she sighed, lowering her arms. "Darn it, Nathan. You _scared_ me," she hissed.

"Sorry." He didn't sound it. Crossing his arms, he peered closely at her through the darkness. "How are you feeling, Phoebe?"

She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "I'm alright, I guess. I'm just a bit… overwhelmed."

"That's understandable," said Nathan with a nod. "But is that all?"

_These Petrelli's and their insatiable curiosity! _"Not really." Phoebe looked him square in the eye. "But I'm fine."

"Good," said Nathan. "I figured you would be."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How so?"

"You're tougher than you look."

Phoebe had to laugh at that. "Well what do I look like, then? A wimp?"

"No. A girl," Nathan said with a grin.

The way he said it reminded her of her first awkward meeting with Angela, who had asked if Phoebe was Nathan's woman, and Nathan had replied, "She's Peter's girl." She smiled. "I suppose I do. And girls aren't tough?"

"I've met some tough ones," Nathan admitted wryly. "And thankfully you're one of them. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there for Peter--and for me--during our last few showdowns with the bad guys."

Phoebe smiled softly. "Thanks, Nathan. I'm glad I was there, too. And I'm glad _you _were there, as well."

"You're sure you want to be a teacher?" he asked her. "I could certainly find you a job on my staff. I think you're tough enough for politics."

"I want to be a teacher," Phoebe stated firmly. Then she grinned. "And besides, who has time for any other activities when they're so busy looking after your brother?"

"Ah yes. My brother." Nathan peered closely at her, suddenly serious. "I saw the look on your face that night when he had to heal himself in his apartment. The way you looked at him…" He shook his head, seemingly at a loss for words, which surprised Phoebe. Then he met her eyes evenly. "I'll never forget that."

Phoebe felt herself blushing. She looked down at the expensive flooring, fidgeting with her fingernails. "I love him," she said softly.

"I know," said Nathan quietly.

For a moment, they were both quiet, then Nathan sighed. "We've got our hands full taking care of him, don't we?"

Phoebe smiled and looked up at him. "That's for sure."

Nathan grinned. "I think we make a pretty good bodyguard team."

"Oh yes," said Phoebe, nodding. "I'm glad… I'm glad we met, Nathan."

"Me, too. I'm the first… 'special' person you met, right?"

"Yes. I remember it well." Phoebe laughed. "You scared me to death. Here I was meeting this famous congressman to tell him that I met his brother in a dream, and I was sure I had pickles in my teeth."

They both laughed, then Nathan took a step closer to her, giving her a brotherly pat on the shoulder. "Well, I won't keep you up any longer. Goodnight, Phoebe."

"'Night, Nathan."

* * *

Standing around the corner, very quiet, very still, Heidi Petrelli closed her eyes. It couldn't be. Surely she was imagining things… Nathan and Phoebe? It was silly. Really it was… But… He _had _been in the hall with Phoebe--alone--before the banquet, and they had been holding hands. And now… Now they were meeting in the hall of the house.

She had only heard a few words and phrases, but it was enough to raise her suspicions. "A good team?" "I'm glad we met?" And goodnights?

Heidi quietly made her way back to her room, making sure no one else saw her. She could not just let this happen. She had to do something. It was unfair to her, unfair to Peter. That was it. As she closed her bedroom door behind her, she decided that in the morning, she would tell Peter what she had heard.

* * *

"Pack up, John. We're moving out."

John Shoe sighed and stood up from the table of his little house. "Why can't we do things here, Will?"

Will grinned that mischievous, taunting grin of his and shook his head. "John, John, John. I've told you before. The ones who can really help you are in Maine. I'm just a willing tool in their hands… as you may one day be. If they help you, then maybe you can do them a few favors in return."

"If they help me, then I'll be a normal person, and they won't need my help," John shot back, his voice laced with a rumbling growl. He sighed and fought to control himself before his curse could break out. Breathing evenly, he asked, "By the way, where's Roger?"

Will shook his head, and his grin tightened tensely. "He's not coming with us, John."

John frowned. "Why not? He wanted help, too?"

"He changed his mind," said Will, turning his back on the other man. "Come on, John. We're going to Maine."

* * *

It was early in the morning yet, but already Wyatt could sense a tension in the air as he arranged flowers on the breakfast table. Something was going on, maybe more than one something… He shook his head and took a step back from the table, cocking his head to one side to study the flower arrangement. Satisfied, he started to turn away. Then something caught his eye. Something was out of place on the table…

A folder. A yellow file folder.

Wyatt quickly approached to the table and picked it up. As he did so, a small piece of paper fell out of it, fluttering to the floor. The gardener reached down to pick it up. As soon as he did so, images and feelings flashed through his mind, but stronger than both was the voice.

_Got to get out of here… Must find help… Safety… These people are crazy… I can't take it anymore. They may have John fooled, but not me. They'll never… Oh no! Here he comes! Must write faster!!_

Wyatt opened his eyes and looked down at the paper. Scrawled across it in a frantic hand were the words: THEY'RE TAKING US TO MAINE. PLEASE HELP ME! YOU CAN FIND HELP AT BOTTLETREE. HURRY!

Wyatt decided that the would show the paper to the Petrelli's and their guests _after _they had a peaceful breakfast.

* * *

"Peter, may I… speak with you in private?"

Peter's eyes widened, and he raised one eyebrow. "Sure, Heidi." He let his sister-in-law draw him away from the others, who were headed for the neatly arranged breakfast table, throwing a puzzled glance over his shoulder at Nathan, who shrugged, oblivious.

Heidi led Peter to a small sitting room and quickly turned to face him. "Peter, how is your relationship with Phoebe?" she asked, narrowing her eyes on him.

"It's fine." Peter grinned crookedly. "In fact, it's more than fine. Why?"

"Peter…" Heidi twisted her hands together nervously. "I don't know how to say this."

Peter crossed his arms impatiently. "You can tell me anything, Heidi. We're family. You know that."

"That's--that's exactly why I had to tell you this," Heidi said quickly. "We've always been good friends, Peter."

Peter nodded. "Yeah. So what is it, Heidi?"

"Have you noticed anything… different about Phoebe lately?" Heidi asked hesitantly.

"Different?" Peter frowned.

"Has she been…?" Heidi sighed. "Has she been distracted? Does she talk about anyone else when you're together?"

"No… Well, since yesterday, she's been distracted about her family. But… There's good cause for that. Of course she's upset. I don't understand what you're driving at."

"Peter, what's she like around Nathan?" Heidi asked abruptly.

Peter blinked, lowering his arms and sliding his hands into his pockets. "She's just… Phoebe. I mean, she and Nathan get along really well, but… She's always Phoebe."

"She and Nathan get along really well," Heidi repeated quietly.

"Well sure," said Peter, rocking back on his heels, confused by Heidi's questions and responses. "Nathan told me he likes Phoebe. He thinks she's good for me. You know how Nathan is. And I think Phoebe likes his sense of humor. It's nice to know that my brother gets along with my girlfriend."

"Well, what if they get along _too _well?" Heidi asked tentatively.

Peter froze. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… What if Nathan and Phoebe are becoming too close?"

Peter was quiet, frowning. What Heidi was implying was complete nonsense, he was sure. _Phoebe would never… But Nathan would. But not with Phoebe. And anyway, he's changed now. And Phoebe wouldn't agree to something like that, even if he wanted her to. No way. Neither of them would do anything like that… I'm sure… _"Heidi, why do you think Phoebe and Nathan are getting too close?"

"Last night, at the banquet, she met him in the hall--"

Peter shook his head, relieved. "I _told _her to find him."

"Your mother told me they were holding hands."

"Lots of people hold hands. You and I have probably held hands before. They're friends. And what have you and Mom been talking about?"

"And then around 3 o'clock this morning, I overheard them talking in the hall," Heidi said quickly.

Peter frowned. "What were they talking about?"

Heidi shrugged. "I don't know. Something about being a great team and being glad they met each other."

"Friends would say things like that," said Peter staunchly.

"Peter, I'm worried," said Heidi despairingly.

Peter stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Don't be. It's just all this… stress from everything that's happened lately. Our lives have changed, and we're probably all a little paranoid. I'm sure it's nothing."

She smiled weakly. "I hope you're right."

* * *

When they returned to the breakfast room, they entered just in time to see Nathan make some remark to Phoebe that made her laugh. Heidi shot Peter a sharp look. Peter shrugged, but he had to admit, Nathan and Phoebe looked awfully cozy sitting across from each other at the table and laughing like that…

"So… What's so funny?" Peter asked, sitting down quickly beside Phoebe and managing a smile.

Phoebe and Nathan looked at each other, then at Peter, both grinning. "Well actually, we were talking about you," Phoebe informed him brightly.

"Oh really?" Peter asked, reaching for some grapes.

"Yes. Nathan was telling me about some of the things you did when you were little." Phoebe touched his arm gently. "I'll bet you were the cutest kid ever, with those big dark eyes."

Peter grinned, feeling better about things. "I was much cuter than Nathan," he said.


	5. Journeys Begin

Thanks to all my readers and reviewers! Especially thank-you to GreenLeoFiend, Shakespeare's Lemonade, superlc529, BetterThanReality, HeroesBonesSNPB, and sifer.

_Previously on Heroes (Storm Clouds Gathering): _The Heroes begin a discussion on what to do now. Unsure, they all stay the night at the Petrelli mansion. Phoebe is kind of depressed about her family's situation, so Peter comforts her. She still can't sleep, and while wandering around the mansion, she meets up with Nathan. The two share some friendly words and just happen to be overheard at the wrong moment by Heidi, who becomes jealous. The next morning, she confesses her worries to Peter, who at first shrugs it off, then begins to wonder as well. Meanwhile, Wyatt has discovered a note in the Company folder--a note asking for help from the heroes. His past-sense shows him that it has something to do with John Shoe. Anyways, Peter is reassured of Phoebe's feelings for him and breakfast begins...

_CHAPTER FIVE_

Everyone was finishing up their breakfast when Wyatt strode up to the table with purpose.

"What is it, Wyatt?" Nathan asked, setting down his glass of orange juice.

"I found something that I think concerns all of you," Wyatt said quietly, looking around at those seated at the table--Nathan, Peter, Phoebe, Heidi, Hiro, Sasha, and Claire. He moved around the table to hand a small piece of paper to Nathan. "This was in that Company folder."

The congressman frowned. "What is this?"

"Read it, sir, if you will," said Wyatt. "When I touched it, I was struck by a sense of urgency. The writer's thoughts were briefly about someone named John, perhaps Peter's friend. I think your talents are needed."

Nathan read the note aloud, while the others listened intently.

"John's in danger!" Peter exclaimed as soon as the note was read. "We have to do something!"

"We can't just up and leave for Maine, Pete," Nathan countered, setting the note on the table.

"But we must be heroes," Hiro spoke up. "These people need our help."

"Here. Let me see the note." Peter reached across the table and grabbed it.

"Peter. No," said Nathan, narrowing his eyes on his brother.

"I want to see," said Peter defensively.

"I don't know that that's such a good idea," Phoebe joined in. "The last few times you used Wyatt's power, it took a lot from you."

"Wyatt's standing right here," Peter reassured her. "It'll be easier to use his power that way. And besides, if I survived that fight with Sylar, I can survive anything." Stubbornly, he stood and turned his back to the heroes at the table.

Phoebe sighed, while Nathan rolled his eyes.

"Peter, I can just tell you what I saw," Wyatt spoke up.

"Hear, hear," said Nathan, motioning to Wyatt.

"I want to see for myself, but thanks," said Peter politely to the gardener, ignoring his brother. "Maybe we see the past differently. Maybe I'll notice something you didn't see." He closed his eyes and focused his energy on the paper's past.

A thin, pale man with thinning hair scribbled frantically on the paper, glancing occasionally over his shoulder. Peter could hear his thoughts: Where's John? What are they tricking him into now? Not me. I won't be tricked. I've got to get out of here. They may have John fooled, but not me. These people they're watching may be able to help me. Yes, I'm sure they will. They'll come get me out of Maine… They'll help me, like that lady at Bottletree…

Peter gasped as the past-vision blacked out almost violently. His knees weakened momentarily, but he swiftly caught himself and turned steadily to face the others. "We've got to help this guy," he declared. "He and John are being taken to Maine by these… other people, the ones who are watching us. We can't just sit by and let them use John and this other guy." He set the paper dramatically on the table. "I'm going to Maine. Who's going with me?"

"We should think this through," said Nathan, holding up his hands.

"I teleport us to Maine, Flying Man," Hiro volunteered.

"Hang on, Hiro. We haven't decided--"

"We should go," said Heidi, surprising everyone else.

"Whoa." Nathan turned quickly to face her, eyebrows raised. "We? Heidi… You don't have a power. I don't see how--"

"If the rest of you go, I go," Heidi insisted, crossing her arms. "I'll not be left out of this."

"But what about Phoebe and Claire?" Sasha spoke up quietly. "They wanted to find Meredith Gordon."

"True," said Hiro. He frowned for a moment in concentration. "I teleport them to Meredith Gordon, then we meet others in Maine!" He grinned then, proud of his plan.

"That works," said Peter, motioning to Hiro. "It's a good plan, Nathan. Let's do it."

Nathan sighed. "Peter, I'm a congressman. I have certain duties--"

"That Mom would be happy to take care of for you," said Peter dryly.

"That's a scary thought," Nathan replied with a wry smile. "I do have some excellent staff members who could probably manage things very well…"

"So we're really going to do this?" Claire spoke up, an unreadable look on her face.

Peter looked askance at Nathan, then replied, "Yes."

Running a hand down his face and sighing, Nathan nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

"So… We're going to be separated," said Claire quietly. "From each other, from our families in New York…"

Everyone was quiet for a moment.

"We have to do this," Peter said forcefully. "We're… heroes. We're gifted. We don't have these powers for nothing. We have to do something with them. Might as well use them to help someone."

"And anyway, if we don't find out who these watchers are and what they plan to do with us, we could be in a heap of trouble," Sasha added. "So we need to find out who they are and what they want now, before this grows into a bigger problem."

Nathan glanced at her with one eyebrow raised. "I hadn't thought of that. That makes a lot of sense."

"Sasha is very smart hero," Hiro declared.

* * *

It took an entire day for the heroes to settle things with their jobs and families before they could prepare to make their journey to Maine. Phoebe went with Claire to speak to her adopted parents. Naturally, Noah Bennet did not want Claire to go unless he went along, but Phoebe managed to convince him that she would take good care of Claire--though she suspected Noah would somehow keep them monitored, or perhaps show up along the way.

Another night was spent in the Petrelli mansion, then the heroes prepared to go their separate ways.

* * *

"She's in Canada," said Peter, shaking off the weird feeling that accompanied his use of the finding power. "In a small cabin in a clearing. It's a pretty place."

"Is she alone?" Claire asked quietly.

Peter nodded. "Yeah."

Claire stood in the living room between Phoebe and Hiro, preparing for teleportation. "Good thing we packed warm clothes," she said lightly, holding up her suitcase. Her eyes went to Nathan, who gave her a quick smile and a nod. "Well… I guess we should go now."

"Be careful," said Peter quickly.

"We will be extra careful, Peter Petrelli," Hiro proclaimed, giving him two thumbs-up.

"Hey, Phoebe…" Peter took her hand and led her away from the others into the hall as they began to discuss details of the journeys. "I mean it when I say be careful," he said intensely.

"I know," said Phoebe quietly, looking down.

"Is your coat warm enough?" he asked, peering at her with a concerned frown and straightening the collar of her coat.

"It's fine, Peter," she replied with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Take care of Claire and Hiro, and… Take care of yourself."

"I will." She looked back up at him, biting her lip. "You be careful, too, Peter. No self-sacrificial missions while I'm gone, alright?"

Peter grinned lopsidedly. "I'll try to stay in line. Nathan will keep me there. Or at least he'll try."

"Good old Nathan," said Phoebe with a grin. "I'll miss him, too."

Peter's own grin weakened at her words. "Phoebe--"

Oblivious, Phoebe continued, "However, I think…" She slipped a hand behind Peter's head and touched her forehead to his. "I think I'll miss you more."

Peter's grin perked up slightly. "You just think?"

She moved closer to him, her lips almost touching his. "I know."

Peter kissed her, slowly at first, then with mounting intensity. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless. "Be safe, okay?" Peter whispered, pulling her close.

She rested her head against his shoulder. "I will. And you'd better do the same."

He held her quietly for a moment, trying to memorize the feel of her in his arms. "I love you, Phoebe," he said quietly, suddenly, his voice barely above a breath.

She was quiet for a few seconds, and Peter started to worry, then… "I love you, too, Peter."

He smiled. "Good."

When they reentered the living room, Hiro and Sasha were hugging good-bye. It was a bittersweet sight to see, and Peter had to swallow down a painful lump in his throat. He did not want to think of Hiro and Sasha being separated, or any of them being separated for that matter… Especially himself and Phoebe.

Phoebe squeezed his hand, then slowly slid hers out of his and moved to stand with Hiro and Claire by the fireplace.

"Well," said Nathan, clasping his hands together. "This is it."

"We are going on a mission!" said Hiro brightly.

"All of you be very careful," said Nathan.

"We'll see you in Maine," added Heidi.

Nathan stepped forward toward Claire. "I'll miss you," he told her quietly.

"I'll miss you, too," she said, looking up at him.

He reached out and drew her into an embrace, whispering, "I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied quietly as he released her.

Then Nathan turned to Phoebe, while Heidi watched closely. "You take care of yourself, too, Phoebe," he said, patting Phoebe's arm.

"Will do, roger that," she replied with a wry grin.

Nathan gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I don't want to have to come flying out to Canada to rescue you."

"You be careful, too, Flying Man," she replied. "'Cause even if you do get in trouble, I can't fly to your aid." She glanced over his shoulder. "And look after Peter for me, will you?"

Nathan met her eyes steadily, and they were both suddenly serious. "You know I will," he said.

Then Hiro stepped toward the congressman. "We will meet you in Maine, Flying Man," he said, holding out his hand.

Nathan shook it with a grin, then stepped back.

Hiro moved between the two girls and took their hands.

Peter and Phoebe looked at each other across the room, and he gave her an encouraging smile. She bit her lip and nodded to him… and vanished with Hiro and Claire.

* * *

The next sensation Phoebe felt was the wind--cold and hard. She gasped and turned her head, grinning over Hiro at Claire, who had done the same thing.

"There is cabin!" Hiro called over the wind, pointing.

They were standing in a field of tall, dark green grass, grass that somehow managed to thrive in the middle of winter. A log cabin stood against a forest of pines at the end of the field of grass. Smoke curled out of the chimney, whipped sideways by the wind.

"We can do this," Claire said across Hiro to Phoebe.

Phoebe nodded to the other girl, despite the fact that she was unsure of herself.

Hiro squeezed both their hands. "I will be with you, Phoebe Agnew and cheerleader."

Phoebe smiled down at the little hero. "I'm glad," she said sincerely.

And still holding hands, the three heroes walked determinedly toward the cabin.

* * *

The others were taking a train to Portland, Maine.

Using the Walker girl's finding power, Peter had only been able to determine that John Shoe was somewhere near Portland, and Nathan did not trust his brother's teleportation skills. He still shuddered inwardly at the memory of ending up in a wild park on the bad side of town, bleeding from a hole in his arm. That had been interesting to say the least…

The politician jerked his attention back to his brother, who was speaking to Heidi and Sasha, who sat across the aisle from the Petrelli boys. "So then we'll hit the local library, maybe a few gas stations, and ask if anyone knows about a place called Bottletree."

"It could be anywhere," Heidi said with a frown.

"Just think about it, Heidi," said Peter a bit impatiently. "This man who wrote us the note wouldn't tell us to go somewhere for help if it was halfway across the country from where he's going."

"That makes sense, I suppose," Heidi admitted. Watching her lips, Nathan thought she was probably trying to surprises a smile at Peter's smug attitude. She leaned back in the train seat and shook her head, then glanced abruptly at Nathan.

Caught. He looked quickly away from her, turning to stare out the window at the view, which seemed to be racing by almost as fast as he could fly… No, not even almost as fast. Nathan grinned slowly…

"Nathan, I have a strange feeling about this Bottletree place," Peter said, nudging Nathan with his elbow.

Nathan turned to meet his little brother's eyes. "What sort of 'strange feeling,' Pete?"

"I don't know… Like--like it's destiny or something."

"Like it's destiny," Nathan repeated. He shrugged nonchalantly. "It may very well be. Now if you don't mind handing me that magazine--"

"Darn it, Nathan. Pay attention to me!" Peter exclaimed. "And anyway, if you had given me the window seat like I asked, you could get the magazine yourself."

Nathan narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Okay. Fine." Peter grabbed the magazine and handed it to his brother. "But I mean it, Nathan. I'm serious. There's something about this place… I know we'll find it."

Nathan sighed. He had a strange feeling, too--a feeling that he was not going to get any reading done on this trip. Must be my destiny… He smiled slightly, amused at his own thoughts.

"I'm serious, Nathan," Peter repeated, his eyes stormy.

"I know. Sorry." Nathan patted the other Petrelli's shoulder. "I was just…" He shook his head. "Sorry. So… Is this feeling of yours bad or good?"

"It's good, I think…" But Peter frowned abruptly.

"What's the matter?" Nathan asked quickly.

"I just… I don't know." Peter shook his head, still frowning. "Suddenly I don't feel so good." His face was beginning to pale.

"I think Heidi's got some motion sickness medication in her bag," Nathan said, patting his brother's shoulder and trying not to appear as concerned as he felt.

"Thanks, but I think I'll be alright. I just--" Peter grinned suddenly and raised an eyebrow at Nathan. "So you know what she's got in her bag now?" he asked quietly. "Are you guys… close… again?"

Nathan's eyes narrowed again. "Peter…"

"Sorry. Just asking." Peter rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat with a hurt look on his face.

Nathan sighed. No need to be so cold. He's just being the nice, annoying little brother he's supposed to be. "As a matter of fact, I just happened to see her pack it. And no… We're not close again." He glanced across Peter to where Heidi and Sasha were talking quietly in their seats.

"I'm sorry, man," said Peter quietly, regaining his brother's attention.

"So am I," said Nathan, opening the magazine.

Peter patted Nathan's arm encouragingly. "Things will turn out alright."

"How do you know?" Nathan asked, meeting Peter's benevolent gaze and feeling ridiculously vulnerable. "Do you know what's in the future?"

"No. I just know my big brother," Peter told him with a crooked smile.

* * *

"So… How long have you known Phoebe?" Heidi asked Sasha, glancing for a few seconds over her shoulder at Nathan, who seemed to be engrossed in some magazine.

"Years and years," said Sasha, oblivious to the reasons behind Heidi's questions. "We met at a Future Teachers of America conference when we were in high school and hit it off instantly. She's still going the teaching route, but I changed my mind."

"Ah." Heidi smiled at Sasha, then remembered, for the dozenth time, that Sasha was blind. She lightly touched the back of the younger woman's hand. "So… Does she talk to you much about Peter?"

"Constantly," said Sasha with a smile. "She's totally in love with him." She leaned closer to Heidi, whispering, "I have a feeling they're going to get married one day."

"That would be great," said Heidi noncommittally.

Sasha suddenly frowned, turning over her hand so that it was palm to palm with Heidi's. "What's the matter, Heidi?" she asked quietly.

Heidi's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" She winced as she remembered what Sasha's power was.

"Heidi, Phoebe loves Peter," said Sasha slowly. She withdrew her hand from under Heidi's.

"How do you know?" Heidi whispered.

Sasha's lips quirked in a crooked smile. "I'm only blind in one sense of the word."


	6. Destiny Brews

As always, thanks to my regular readers/reviewers, and welcome to any newcomers. You know I always enjoy hearing from anyone who reads. And I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

_Previously on Heroes (Storm Clouds Gathering): _Wyatt gives the note from the man in trouble to the heroes at breakfast, and they decide that they need to go help this man (and John Shoe). Hiro volunteers to teleport Phoebe and Claire to see Meredith in Canada, while the others head to Maine. After meeting Meredith, Hiro and the two girls are supposed to meet the others in Maine. The heroes say their farewells as they prepare to separate. Hiro, Phoebe, and Claire teleport to Candada. Peter, Nathan, Heidi, and Sasha hop on a train to Maine (which rhymes, by the way), where Nathan notices that Peter doesn't seem to be feeling well and Sasha notices that Heidi is jealous of Phoebe...

CHAPTER SIX

Phoebe held her breath. She suspected Claire was doing the same.

Hiro, on the other hand, was not. He knocked on the door of the cabin with a smile. "Ms. Gordon!" he called cheerfully. "Are you at home?"

"She's obviously here," said Claire. "Look at all the wind chimes."

With a start, Phoebe noticed the wind chimes. A chill ran up her spine. She had her own wind chime collection back at her apartment. Some of the exact same chimes hung on Meredith Gordon's porch. Her _sister's _porch…

"Coming!" called a voice from inside.

Phoebe took a step backward.

"Oh no you don't!" exclaimed Claire, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her forward. "If I have to do this, then so do you."

"As I recall, it was our idea in the first place," said Phoebe, managing a smile. "And here we are wishing we were anywhere else."

Phoebe and Claire stared at each other for a moment, then burst into hysterical laughter.

"What is so funny?" Hiro asked with a puzzled smile.

"Nothing. Nothing," Claire managed, panting with laughter. She and her aunt were both doubled over and red-faced. "Phoebe… _Aunt _Phoebe…"

Their laughter shot up in volume.

"We have the same knees," Claire giggled.

"What!?" Phoebe exclaimed, grinning.

"Our knees… They look just alike. I noticed in the other day when you were wearing a skirt. Your knees are just like mine!"

The two girls fairly shrieked with laughter.

Then the door opened, and there was silence.

Claire and Phoebe quickly straightened.

"Claire?" came the breathy voice of the woman just inside the door, the woman who Phoebe realized with a shock looked just like Emily Agnew, Phoebe's mother. "What's going on? How did you find me?"

Claire lifted her chin. "As I'm sure you know, you're not the only one of my relatives with… an ability. Peter Petrelli found you for me."

"Oh. Well isn't that nice." Meredith crossed her arms, looking unsure.

"Meredith Gordon, I am Hiro Nakamura," said Hiro with a bow. "I am Claire's friend. And this--"

"Phoebe Agnew," said Phoebe quickly, meeting her sister's eyes steadily.

For a moment, Meredith frowned in puzzlement, then her eyes widened and her face paled. "Phoebe… Agnew. Are we… related in any way?"

"I'm your… You're my…" Phoebe cleared her throat. "We're sisters."

* * *

Peter stood in the tiny bathroom of the train cabin he shared with Nathan. He leaned on the sink, closed his eyes, and concentrated… again. And once again, the bar of soap on the sink did not move. "What's happening to me?" Peter muttered, frowning. Angrily, he tried again to use telekinesis. This time, the soap moved, hovering over the sink.

Peter grinned… then frowned at the feeling of weakness washing over his body. He let the soap drop roughly into the sink, his knees shaking. Quickly, he leaned himself against the wall and slid down, bothered by the ragged sound of his breathing. He closed his eyes and concentrated on deep breaths.

A picture suddenly sprang up in his mind's eye… Phoebe.

"Phoebe." He whispered her name and felt strength flow back through him.

"Peter? You okay in there?"

"I'm fine, Nathan," Peter called. "I'll be out in a minute." He stood carefully, directing his attention at the soap. He grinned with satisfaction as the bar of soap lifted easily out of the sink at his bidding. He set it down on the rim of the sink and, satisfied that he was really fine, he moved toward the door. In his relief, he failed to notice that his hands were shaking.

* * *

Phoebe was unsure what to do with her hands. She was fidgetting like crazy and sure that her sister had probably noticed. Quickly, she linked her fingers together and held her hands between her knees, hoping she did not look like third grader waiting for a vaccination.

"So you're a teacher?" Meredith asked her, pouring each of her guests a glass of tea.

Phoebe nodded, smiling with effort. "Yes… Well sort of. I'm a substitute right now, but I'm getting a job at one of the New York high schools in a few months, so then I'll be teaching for good."

"And you like it?" Meredith asked quietly, sitting in a large, comfy-looking recliner.

"I do," said Phoebe. "I like doing something that matters. When I'm teaching, I don't feel worthless. I feel like… I'm making a difference…" _Wow. It's odd that I'm confessing all of this to her…_

"And you're telekinetic?"

"Yes. I hear you're a firestarter."

"Yes." With a crooked smile, Meredith allowed a small flame to spurt from her fingertips. "It's a useful talent to have up here where it's so cold."

"I'm sure."

They were all quiet for a moment.

"Have ya'll noticed any weird storms lately?" Meredith asked then.

"There was a really weird storm the night of my banquet," Claire spoke up.

"Ah yes. Your banquet." Meredith smiled indulgently at her daughter. "I heard about that on the news. You looked just gorgeous in that purple dress."

"Thanks," said Claire flatly.

"And there was a weird storm?" Meredith questioned.

"Yes. Very weird," Hiro answered. "It is winter in New York and… No snow. Just thunder and lightning. And Peter Petrelli say he hear laugh in thunder."

"Peter _would _say something like that," Claire remarked with a wry grin.

"Peter's your uncle?" Meredith asked. "He's your father's brother, right?"

Claire nodded absently, looking anywhere but her mother's eyes.

"He is dating Phoebe Agnew," Hiro announced pleasantly.

"Oh?" Meredith's eyebrows raised as she turned her gaze to Phoebe. "That's interesting." Her grin looked a bit mischievous now as she leaned back in her chair and lit a cigarette with her fingers.

Phoebe managed a half smile. "Yeah. I like him."

"You would," said Meredith archly. "It's in the blood. We Gordon girls have a thing for those Petrelli boys."

"Agnew. It's Agnew," Phoebe corrected, resisting the urge to telekinetically put out her sister's cigarette.

"Oh yes. Of course. And how is Nathan?"

"He's fine," said Claire shortly.

"Wouldn't it be interesting if he and I had stayed together?" Meredith took a drag on the cigarette. "Sisters dating brothers…" She smiled roguishly.

Phoebe blinked. Peter had said something very similar at the banquet…

"That would be… strange," said Claire, crossing her arms.

"It's just like destiny that you're dating Peter," said Meredith to Phoebe. "Like I said before, there must be something in our blood and theirs that… draws us together."

Phoebe was unsure what to say to that and was a bit relieved when Meredith continued talking.

"Of course, your real last name is Gordon. I'm sure Daddy dearest changed the name to keep you safe." She shrugged. "I suppose he didn't think about changing mine. But then, by that time, I was long gone…" There was a touch of wisfulness in her voice, and for a moment, Phoebe felt very sorry for her sister, who had made the bad decision to run away long ago, when she was so very young.

"So. Does anyone want to see my photography collection?" Meredith asked, suddenly cheerful.

The three heroes seated on the couch looked at each other. Then Claire looked to Meredith and nodded. "Sure." She got up and followed her birth mother out of the living room.

Hiro started to follow, but Phoebe grabbed his arm. "I think maybe they should be alone for a little bit. I think Claire probably has some questions for her mother."

"I think you are nervous of your sister," Hiro told Phoebe, patting her hand.

Phoebe sighed. "I think I am, too." She stood slowly and stretched. "I'd just like… to get back… to Peter and the others…" Her vision wavered for a moment, and she swayed dizzily on her feet.

"Phoebe? Are you okay?" Hiro asked, standing quickly.

"I'm fine. I just…" She sighed and sat back down. "I guess I'm tired." She closed her eyes wearily, feeling drained. _I miss Peter._

* * *

The dark man gathered his power and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the task at hand.

"You know what you have to do," said the man behind him. "You have to stop them. Look."

The first man looked. And he saw a painting depicting doom and destruction for himself and for his comrades, doom and destruction at the hands of the brothers Petrelli and their entourage, a ragtag group of heroes, some with very dangerous powers.

"You know what to do," said the second man quietly.

The first man nodded. "And I'll do it." With a quick bow to the second man, he left the room and walked out into the night, lightning flashing above him as breathed the heavy air, wind swirling around him.

The second man remained inside, watching the first with a smirk on his face. Everything was going according to plan. He would have his revenge.

* * *

Nathan noticed Peter's trembling hands. "Pete, are you sure you're okay?" he asked his brother, frowning.

Peter turned to meet his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. I--" He glanced down at his hands. "I think I'm just tired. I can still use my powers."

Nathan's eyebrows raised. "So you were worried that you couldn't?"

Peter pressed his lips together and turned from Nathan, yanking his pajamas out of his suitcase. "I get the bottom bunk since you got the window seat."

"Peter, what's going on?" Nathan grabbed Peter's shoulder and spun his brother around.

"I'm _fine_, Nathan. I--" Peter blinked and shook his head.

"Peter?" Nathan grabbed onto his brother's other shoulder, suddenly aware--and terrified-- of the fact that he was holding Peter up.

Peter met Nathan's eyes then, and the younger brother's eyes were wide and feverish. "Nathan, something's wrong. I can't--I can't focus."

"Just calm down, Pete. Maybe you should lie down…" Nathan frowned. Peter did not even seem to be listening to him. "Hey! Peter!" He gave his younger brother a shake.

Peter's eyes snapped back to Nathan's. "You're right. I should… I should go to bed… now."

Nathan slipped an arm around Peter and helped his brother to the bottom bunk. "You need some medicine or anything?"

"No, no. I"ll be fine…" Peter sighed heavily, frowning. "I don't know what's wrong with me…"

Nathan did not sleep well that night. For one thing, he was worried about Peter. For another thing, he was worried about the three heroes in Canada. Another thing--his relationship with Heidi. And finally, there was the thunder…

BOOM!

The train car shook, and Nathan had to hang on tightly to the edge of the bed to keep from being thrown from it.

There was another crash, and the car shook again. Nathan tumbled over the side of the upper bunk, using his power of flight just in time to keep from hitting the floor. He sighed with relief as he levitated inches from the floor, then slowly set himself down on his feet.

"Pete, you okay?" he asked, peering through the darkness to where his brother lay on the lower bunk.

Peter did not move.

"Peter!" Nathan called, worry clenching his heart.

"What is it?" Peter asked groggily, rolling over to face Nathan, who nearly fell over with relief at the sound of his little brother's voice.

"Something's going on. Did you feel that--?" Before he could finish speaking, the car jerked again, and Nathan was thrown forward. He grabbed onto the bunk ladder to steady himself. By now, both brothers could hear shouts and worried cries from the other passengers.

Peter quickly stood. "We have to find out what's going on. Maybe we can do something."

Nathan flipped on the light and took in his brother's paleness and feverishly bright eyes. He put a restraining hand on the younger man's chest. "You stay right here. You need your rest. I'll go find out what's going on."

"Nathan--"

"You're sick, Pete. Lie down."

Peter shook his head and reached for his suitcase. "I'm getting dressed, and I'm going out there with you."

Nathan sighed and closed his eyes. It was going to be a rough night.


	7. Rough Night

Thanks as always to readers and reviewers! You keep me going!

_Previously on Heroes (Storm Clouds Gathering): _Phoebe, Claire, and Hiro arrive at Meredith's cabin in Canada, and Phoebe finally meets her sister. Their relationship begins a bit awkwardly, with Meredith inferring that Phoebe is drawn to Peter because Gordon girls are drawn to Petrelli boys. Meanwhile, Peter is beginning to worry about his powers. He nearly has another pass-out episode in the train berth he shares with Nathan, and Nathan begins to think that this is going to be a rough night... Especially when the train begins to shake...

_CHAPTER SEVEN_

Phoebe was feeling strange by the time the sun set. She felt almost frantic with worry for Peter, for no reason in particular. As the two girls prepared for bed, Claire noticed the look on Phoebe's face. "Phoebe, what's wrong?" she asked, taking her toothbrush and toothpaste out of her bag.

Phoebe looked closely at her niece, who stood there in purple silk pajamas holding a toothbrush and toothpaste. "I don't feel… right," she said, sighing heavily and plopping down on the bed of the guest room. "I feel strange, and--and I'm worried."

"About what?" asked Claire. She quickly corrected herself. "Need I ask?"

Phoebe smiled wryly. "Yes, it's about Peter. I don't feel like me without him here."

Claire smiled and walked into the little guest bathroom. "You should just marry him when we get to Maine," she called brightly.

Phoebe felt herself blushing. "We've only known each other for a few months!"

"So?" Claire's voice was muffled, obviously coming through toothpaste and toothbrush. "You love each other. You now each other so well. And you have this strange connection."

"Strange connection…" Phoebe repeated, frowning. Words and images came to her all of a sudden: Peter and Meredith talking about sisters and brothers, all the gifted being connected in some way, her intense longing for Peter when he was not there… And the way they had met, in her dream. She did not have any sort of dream power. Peter did. How had he reached her, pulled her into his dream, stepped into hers? Claire was right. There _was _a strange connection between Peter and herself. Destiny, maybe…

Sighing, she fell back on the bed and just sprawled, weariness coming over her, weariness and an odd sense of loss. Sleep crept up on her, and she did not have the strength to fight it. Her dreams were of Peter.

* * *

At first, there had been five of them. Now there were three. Roger had simply vanished, and now Tyler had been sent on some mission.

John Shoe sat in the big, dark room with the most talkative of the group and the least talkative of the group. Both men intimidated him for some reason. The blond was always mischievous, restless, and loud, always grinning as if he knew something no one else did. And the darker man, the darker man also smiled. Somehow, his smile was scarier…

"What is it, John?" asked the dark man from the corner, where he sat reading Dante's _Inferno. _

John shrugged. "It's nothing. I'm fine." He was a bit startled that the dark man had spoken to him. Heck, he didn't even know the man's name.

The dark man chuckled and went back to his book.

John shivered involuntarily.

"Will," the dark man spoke up suddenly.

The blond man stopped pacing, quickly turning to the man in the corner.

"The girl will be alone soon," said the dark-haired man, not looking up from his book. "She'll leave the cabin and take a walk to be alone with her thoughts."

Will frowned for once. "How do you know?"

"A little bird told me," said the dark man, looking up at Will in annoyance. "Now go and snatch her will."

* * *

Peter and Nathan met Sasha and Heidi in the hall as they rushed out of their cabin. Other passengers were also spilling into the narrow space.

"Are you alright?" Nathan asked Heidi quietly, tentatively.

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "I'm fine."

"Sasha?" Peter asked.

"I'm okay," she said with a quick, brave smile. "I'm just wondering what the heck is going on."

"Well so am I," said Nathan. He motioned to the others. "Come on."

They all followed him down the hall, Peter remembering to reach back for Sasha's hand. As soon as he closed his fingers around hers, Sasha gasped.

"What is it?" Peter asked, glancing back at her as he continued to follow Nathan and Heidi.

"Peter, you're sick," said Sasha, frowning worriedly.

"I'll be fine," he insisted. "Hey, Nathan!" he called to his brother. "Where are you taking us?"

"To see the conductor," Nathan replied, glancing back, first at Peter, then at Sasha. "Sasha, what's wrong with him?"

Sasha tightened her grip on Peter's hand. "I don't know. There's just… something wrong. Peter, you should be resting."

"I can't rest when something is--"

BOOM!

The train car shook, and people screamed as they were thrown off balance.

Heidi lost her footing and stumbled, only to be caught by Nathan.

Nathan held his breath, suddenly struck by how right it felt to hold Heidi close. She was warm and feminine and smelled like flowers. For a moment, he just stood there in the crowded hall of the sleeper car, supporting his wife against his chest.

"Let go of me," Heidi told him quietly, looking anywhere but at him.

Nathan sighed, a pang of regret stabbing his heart. "Easy, Heidi. I was just trying to help." He let her go, and she walked around him.

"Come on," she called back to the others. "We need to find out what's going on."

Nathan sighed and looked down, shaking his head.

"Hey Nathan, you okay?"

Nathan looked up into the guileless eyes of his brother. He could not help but smile. Peter was pale and unsteady, and he was asking about Nathan. "I'm fine, Peter," said Nathan. He reached out to take hold of his little brother's shoulder. "You worry about yourself, okay?"

Peter grinned crookedly. "I can't do that, Nathan. That's your job."

The brothers eyed each other steadily for a moment, then grinned at the same time.

"And Peter needs looking after," Sasha spoke up.

"So does Nathan," Peter insisted.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Come on." And he started down the hallway after his wife.

The small group continued down the hall, even as a voice came over the intercom, ordering everyone to return to their compartments.

* * *

The conductor was a short, solid older man with a balding pate and bowlegs. He looked Nathan up and down, then glanced around him to where Peter stood with the two women. "Congressman Petrelli. Well I'll be!" His accent was surprisingly Southern. "You should be back in your bunk where it's safe."

"I'm here to help," Nathan declared, looking for all the world like a hero, Peter thought. "What's going on here?"

The train shook again, and the conductor frowned. "I'm not really sure. I've got some men looking into it, but they can't seem to figger it out. I'm thinkin' it might have summin to do with this storm." As if on cue, lightning flashed outside the window of the engine car. "This weather just ain't right," the conductor intoned sagely, shaking his balding head. "It's cold weather, for heaven's sake."

"So you think the storm is shaking the train?" Peter asked, stepping out from behind Nathan.

"Could be, if the wind's heavy enough." The conductor narrowed his eyes on Peter. "You feelin' well, son?"

Peter nodded. "I'm fine." Then he coughed, earning a sharp glance from his brother. He frowned at Nathan and looked away. By chance, his eyes happened to focus on the window. And just outside it, lightning flashed, for a brief second, illuminating a face. "Hey! There's someone outside the train!" Peter exclaimed, pointing.

"Cain't be my boys," said the conductor. "I wonder what in tarnation's goin' on!"

"You just keep the train going," said Nathan calmly, hands on his hips. "We'll find out what's going on." He nodded to the others. "Come on."

"Hang on, just a second, son," said the conductor, raising a hand. "You're passengers. It's my responsibility to see that you're safe."

"Just trust us," Peter told the man, steadily meeting his eyes. "We can handle things."

The conductor raised an eyebrow. "Who are you people?"

Peter and Nathan glanced at each other, then at Sasha and Heidi. Sasha shrugged, while Heidi just stared blankly at them.

"We're just here to help," Nathan said finally, flashing a diplomatic smile.

The conductor watched them go with a puzzled look on his weathered face.

"Heidi, you stay here with Sasha," said Nathan when they were back in the hallway of the sleeper car, subconsciously taking his wife's hand. "Peter and I are going to take a look outside."

Heidi worked her jaw, her eyes unreadable, then finally, she nodded. "Alright. But… Be careful." She looked away from him, slipping her hand from his. "Take care of Peter, and… Take care of yourself."

"I will," said Nathan quietly. He turned to Peter, who was leaning one shoulder against the wall of the hallway. "Let's change into some warmer clothes and find out what's going on outside."

Peter nodded, dark eyes steady in his pale face. "Let's do it."

* * *

When Peter and Nathan stepped outside of the train, they were instantly met by a blast of frigid wind. Peter gasped and took a step backward.

"Careful, Pete." Nathan, standing just behind Peter, lifted a steadying hand to his younger brother's back. "What can you see?"

"Not much," Peter called above the whistling of the wind and the roaring of the train. "It's dark and foggy out here."

"And freezing," Nathan added.

"I think the conductor is slowing down the train," Peter said. He peered out into the darkness, wishing he had acquired some sort of nigh-vision skill from someone. "I don't see what could be causing the train to--"

Thunder boomed, and the train rocked. Peter braced himself against the railing of the platform on which the brothers stood. "What's shaking the train like that?" he called back to Nathan.

Nathan shook his head, frowning. "I don't know. I don't think the wind is strong enough to be doing that."

Peter turned to Nathan with wide eyes. "There's someone else out here, someone who's--" He suddenly grabbed Nathan and jerked him closer to the rail. "Look out!"

Nathan spun, backing against the railing beside Peter, just in time to see a dark figure leap down from the top of the train and onto the platform. "Who are you?" Nathan demanded.

The figure straightened. It was a man, tall and lanky. He looked up and met the eyes of the Petrelli brothers. "I'm the weather," he said with a smile.

"What are you doing to this train?" Peter asked him, stepping forward.

"You must be Peter Petrelli," said the man. "I've heard a lot about you. I'm nearly sick of it, to tell you the truth." He held up his hand and lightning flashed from it, sparkling up into the air. "I was glad when they sent me to stop you. No more Peter Petrelli."

"Who sent you?" Peter asked, taking a defensive stance.

"Not telling," the weather man replied insolently. He raised his other hand, and the wind picked up speed.

"Well come on and fight me, then," said Peter, raising his hands in front of him. Behind him, Nathan groaned.

"I have to take care of this train, first," said the weather man, shrugging nonchalantly. He turned toward the train and extended his arms.

"Your fight is with me," said Peter. "Leave the train alone. There are lots of innocent people on board."

The weather man glanced at Peter over his shoulder. "So?"

"So leave them alone," said Nathan, stepping forward to stand beside his brother.

"Or what?" asked the weather man.

Peter and Nathan glanced at each other. _On three, we take him, _Peter told his brother telepathically. _Then we fly him off the train. Got it?_

Nathan nodded ever so slightly.

_One._

"Well? Or what?"

_Two._

"Cowards," laughed the weather man, turning back to the train.

_Three!_

Peter and Nathan rushed their enemy, each grabbing one of his arms.

"Hey! What--!?"

The Petrelli brothers took off, launching into flight, dragging the weather man with them. The three men were swept upward into the foggy air by a powerful gust of wind.

"Tell us who you work for!" Peter yelled at the weather man, shaking him as he and Nathan flew above the train, keeping up with it.

The weather man only laughed.

"I don't like this, Pete," Nathan shouted over a loud clap of thunder. "He knows something he's not telling." He reached out and took the weather man by the throat. "You tell us what you're laughing about and who you're working for or we drop you."

Peter's eyes widened, but he said nothing, allowing Nathan to take control of the situation.

"You think I can fall?" the weather man choked out. "Maybe I can't fly like you guys, but the wind will never let me fall."

"Well you can choke," Nathan said through clenched teeth, tightening his fingers.

The weather man managed a laugh. "And you can fry."

"Nathan! Look out!" Peter cried. He gave a hard pull on the weather man, jerking all three men out of the way of a bolt of lightning that narrowly missed Nathan.

"Thanks, man," Nathan called to Peter.

"No problem," said Peter. "I'll just read this guy's mind and get it over with."

"Careful, Pete," Nathan cautioned.

The weather man turned wide eyes to Peter, seeming intimidated for once.

Peter closed his eyes and focused on the lanky villain, searching for his thoughts. For a moment, he achieved success. _Who _is _this guy? He must be just as dangerous as everyone says. Still, he won't be able to stop me from--_

Suddenly, an immense weariness washed over Peter. He felt as if he were being torn between his flying power and his mind reading power, as if he would not be able to hang onto both… But he _had _to! He tried to refocus on the weather man's mind…

"Peter! Pull up!" Nathan's voice called frantically.

Peter could feel himself dropping. He quickly opened his eyes and focused everything he had on flying. "I can't--I can't do both at once. Something--something's wrong. Something's happening," he managed, gasping between words.

The weather man was laughing again. "You'll never be able to stop it, then," he told the brothers, as his storm lulled momentarily. "Look."

Peter and Nathan quickly looked down at the train. "Oh no!" Peter cried. "We've got to do something!"

A skinny, twisting wall of wind and cloud was snaking its way downward toward the train.

A tornado!

Nathan jerked hard on the weather man, ripping him from Peter's grip. "My wife is down there!" he shouted. "Call it off!"

The villain shook his head. "No way, man."

"Call it _off_!" Nathan ordered, shaking the weather man roughly.

"Do as he says," came Peter's low, commanding voice. He stretched out his hand toward the villain.

"I'll never--Ah!!" The weather man shrieked with shock and rage as Peter used the nerve manipulation power on him, sending waves of pain through his body.

"Do it _now," _Peter ordered, his eyes dark and dangerous.

The weather man looked from Petrelli brother to Petrelli brother, eyes wide, face red. Then, abruptly he grinned.

Nathan yelled in shock as he was hit with a violent gust of wind. His grip on the weather man broke, he went tumbling sideways through the air.

"Nathan!" Peter called. He glanced at the weather man, who was laughing as he escaped on the wind, then looked to Nathan and instantly shot after his brother.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Nathan called as he righted himself in the air. "You can use his power!" He pointed frantically to the tornado. "You can stop it!"


	8. Shadows of a Threat

Much Heroes love to all readers and especially to those who read and review. You are my heroes. :)

_Previously on Heroes (Storm Clouds Gathering): _Phoebe begins to get strange feelings of anxiety about Peter. Claire tries to reassure her, and yet she continues to have dark dreams about Peter. Meanwhile, John Shoe is beginning to be suspicious of the group he is with. The leader of the group sends out a man named Will to snatch someone's will... Back on the train, Sasha touches Peter and realizes that he is sick, despite this, he insists on going with Nathan to find out what is happening to the train. The brothers volunteer their services to the conductor and step out onto a platform. They are instantly attacked by a man who controls the weather. It is his storm that has been bombarding the train. The brothers fight the weather man, but he manages to get away--after showing them that he has sent a tornado right into the path of the train. Nathan tells Peter to stop the tornado using the weather man's power...

_CHAPTER EIGHT_

Peter flew closer to the tornado, positioning himself between it and the train. Concentrating, he reached inside himself for the weather man's power, which he knew was now his as well. Using it, he stretched out his senses toward the tornado and pushed against it. The whirling mass of air and cloud shuddered for a moment, but continued plowing a path toward the train. "Come on. Come _on_," Peter muttered to himself, throwing the weather power harder at the tornado.

This time, the twister backed off. However, this time, Peter's power of flight flickered out for a few seconds, dropping him several feet closer to the top of the train.

"Peter!" Nathan called worriedly.

"I'm fine, Nathan," Peter called back. He took a deep breath and drew himself up. He _had _to stop that tornado! It was coming back again, roaring as loud as the train and the wind put together. By this time, the crew and passengers aboard the train had noticed. Peter could hear their cries of terror. Again, he cast a surge of weather control toward the tornado, willing it to cease. Again, it weakened, slowed, and again, he started to plummet downward.

"I can't do it!" he cried hoarsely, panic shortening his breath. "I'll have to land."

"Careful, Pete," Nathan called to him. "I'll be right behind you."

Quickly, Peter landed himself on top of one of the train cars. He was suddenly overcome with weariness. His knees weakened, and he staggered.

Strong arms came around Peter from behind, supporting him. "You can do this, Peter."

Peter took a deep breath and nodded. He would _not _let Nathan down. Concentrating all of his strength, he willed the tornado to dissipate. With a high-pitched roar that hurt Peter's ears, the powerful, twisting funnel of wind shrank and began to slip upward, back toward the clouds.

"You've got it, Peter! Keep going!" Nathan encouraged.

Smiling, suddenly elated with this new power, Peter pushed his will even harder against the tornado. The roaring faded, and the twister itself began to do the same, shrinking steadily back into the clouds. Finally, the tornado was no more.

Cheers and laughter burst from the train cars below the Petrelli brothers, cheers of people who had no idea how they had just been rescued or by whom.

Peter's grin broadened. "I did it. Did you _see _that, Nathan?"

"Pete, I'm standing right behind you," Nathan remarked dryly.

"I know, but… Wow!" Peter exclaimed. "I just wish I--I just wish I felt--" He frowned. "Nathan?"

"What's the matter, Peter?" Nathan asked, quickly alert.

"I can't--I can't… hang on…" And suddenly, Peter slumped into his brother's arms, eyes closed, breath leaving him in a heavy sigh.

"Peter!" Nathan cried, tightening his grip on his little brother. "Not again!"

* * *

In Phoebe's dream, Peter was standing under a shadow, the long, slender shadow of a man. Peter was also standing on the other side of a great canyon, and she could not reach him.

She stood on the edge of her side and screamed his name, but the wind ripped the cries away before they could reach Peter's ears. The wind also ripped at her breath, making it hard to breathe. Phoebe felt her body weaken. She dropped to her knees and hugged herself against the chill and the darkness.

_God, please… Let me wake up. Please let me wake up!_

* * *

"Phoebe! Wake up!"

She sat up with a gasp.

"Bad dream?" asked a voice from beside her.

She turned to Claire, hoping she did not look half as frightened as she felt. "Yeah. Pretty bad." Sighing, she laid back down. Childishly, she was glad to be sharing the room with Claire. Not being alone was comforting after such a nightmare. "Claire… I'm worried."

"What's the matter?" Claire asked, frowning.

"I… I miss Peter." She smiled wryly. "Gosh, I'm such a baby."

"No you're not," Claire replied. "I miss him, too. And both of my dads and my mom and Sasha…" She smiled, too. "I even miss Lyle… Well, sort of."

"Claire… Sometimes my dreams come true," Phoebe said quietly. "Remember how I met Peter? In a dream?"

"Yeah…" Claire sat up on one elbow and narrowed her eyes on her aunt. "How is that you have dreams like that? I mean… You're not like Peter. You're like the rest of us. You only get one power, and you already have telekinesis."

Phoebe shrugged. "I don't know. But now I'm worried. That nightmare… It was pretty bad. And it was about Peter."

"I gathered," said Claire dryly, raising one eyebrow. "You were yelling at him in your sleep."

"Sorry." Phoebe grimaced.

"There has to be some way we can get in touch with him, just so you can know he's okay," Claire said, lying back down. "Maybe tomorrow you can call him."

"No cell phone service," said Phoebe with a sigh.

"Oh yeah. That's right." Claire frowned. "Well maybe Hiro can teleport you to where Peter is."

"That's an idea," said Phoebe quietly. She yawned. "I guess it'll have to wait until morning." She rolled over on her side and curled up with one of the pillows. "Good-night, Claire."

"Good-night, Phoebe."

* * *

"Move! Out of the _way_!" Nathan shouted, pushing through the crowded hall of the train car, holding Peter tightly.

"What's wrong with him?" someone called.

"Maybe he passed out when he saw the tornado," said another stranger. "_I _nearly did."

Nathan clenched his teeth, set his jaw, and moved onward, closer to the bunk room he shared with Peter, thinking all the while, _He saved your _lives, _people. Can't you at least get out of the way for him? _

Heidi and Sasha came rushing out of their berth. Heidi's eye widened. "Nathan, what happened? Is Peter--?"

"He'll be fine. I just need somewhere to set him down, and I can't reach the key to our berth while I'm holding him like this."

"Where is it?" Heidi asked, moving to his side and drawing Sasha along behind her.

"Jacket pocket. Left side." Nathan waited, forcing himself to be patient, as his wife fished around in his pocket for the key.

"Here it is." She quickly inserted it into the door of the berth, then turned it and opened the door.

"Thanks," said Nathan, quickly slipping past her with his brother, his burden. He moved across the small room to the bunks, setting Peter down on the bottom one, then swiftly kneeling beside him. "Peter! Peter! Wake up! Don't do this to me _again_," he ordered, shaking his brother gently.

"What happened?" Heidi asked, rushing into the room with Sasha in tow. She quickly closed the door behind her and flipped on the light.

"He stopped the tornado, and I think we scared the weather man away, but…" Nathan frowned and touched his brother's pale face. "I think it was too much for him."

"Wait, wait. Slow down." Heidi stood akimbo. "The _weather man_?"

"He was sent to attack us, to stop this train from arriving in Maine," Nathan explained. He ran a hand down his face, sighing heavily.

"What's going on with Peter?" Heidi asked, frowning with concern.

"I don't know," said Nathan raggedly, looking back at his little brother. "I don't know…"

"I can find out," Sasha spoke up softly.

"Please," said Nathan, reaching toward her. "Please try."

Heidi guided Sasha to where Nathan knelt by Peter, and Nathan reached out and took the blind girl's hand.

"I'm sorry all this is happening, Nathan," Sasha told him sincerely. "You carry a lot on your shoulders."

"Someone has to," said Nathan wryly. He gently placed Sasha's fine-boned hand on Peter's shoulder. "There. Now tell me what's happening to my brother."

Sasha closed her blind eyes and set her other hand on Peter's shoulder, as well. Her delicate brows lowered. "He's weakened inside. You're right. Saving the train was too much for him. He's sick. His powers are fading. There are connections. He's connected to people, and those connections give him strength. _You _give him strength, Nathan."

"Well obviously, I'm not enough," said Nathan wryly.

"He's worried for someone. I think he's dreaming." Sasha turned toward the direction of Nathan's voice. "I think he's dreaming about--"

"Phoebe…" Peter muttered, frowning in his unconsciousness.

Nathan and Heidi glanced at each other over Sasha's head.

Sasha drew her hands back from Peter's shoulder. "I think Phoebe might be in trouble," she said with a frown.

* * *

Phoebe opened her eyes. The sun had not yet risen. She sat up quietly and slipped out from under the covers, shivering as her feet hit the cold hardwood floor. For some reason, she was overcome by a craving to be alone.

Quickly and quietly, she dressed in a dark pair of jeans, a green turtleneck, and a long pink jacket, tossing a multi-colored scarf haphazardly around her neck. She slipped out of the bedroom and tiptoed to the front door of the cabin, where she put on her soft brown boots. For a moment, she hesitated in the doorway, a sense of foreboding tingling in her blood. Then she shook it off and stepped outside, closing the door softly behind her. For some reason, she had to be alone. The presence of other living beings had somehow become too much for her. She needed solitude so that she could think about Peter…

* * *

The train arrived safely at the station in Portland, Maine just as the sun was rising. The heroes disembarked quietly, trying to be inconspicuous. Nathan supported a groggy Peter as they stepped from the train onto the platform of the station. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the conductor watching them in curiosity. Fortunately, no one else seemed to be paying much attention to them.

"Where do we go now?" Heidi whispered to Nathan as the four heroes stood clustered around a wrought-iron bench.

Nathan lowered Peter to the bench and turned to face his wife. "We'll get a hotel and see if we can find this Bottletree place."

Heidi crossed her arms and nodded, lips pressed closely together, not looking at him.

"We need to get in touch with the others… Somehow," Peter spoke up wearily from where he sat slumped on the bench.

"We will, Peter," said Sasha fervently. She stood beside Heidi, lightly touching the other woman's arm for guidance.

"I suppose no one thought to get a phone number for the cabin?" Nathan remarked somewhat sarcastically.

"There probably _is _no phone," Heidi replied, frowning at his flippance. "If she's trying to disappear, why would she have a phone?"

"She has a point," came a voice from behind the small party. "If she had a phone, it would be easier for the Company to track her."

Peter lifted his head and turned to look over his shoulder. "Noah?"

Noah Bennet was standing on the platform of the train station. He looked up at the cloudy sky. "Looks like rain."

* * *

Noah Bennet had already rented an eight-passenger van and booked four rooms in a local motel. This arrangement both pleased Nathan Petrelli and rankled on his nerves. He had to admit, the former Company agent had done well in choosing both van and motel, but… He sighed and crossed his arms in the front passenger seat of the van. He, Nathan Petrelli, congressman, was supposed to be the man with the plan.

"So, Claire, Phoebe, and Hiro are still in Canada?" Noah asked lightly. It was obvious that he was trying to appear nonchalant, but Nathan, as a fellow father, recognized the glint of worry in the other man's eyes.

Before Nathan could reply, Sasha spoke up in her quiet, soothing voice. "Yes. We're a bit worried about Phoebe, but Claire and Hiro should be fine."

Noah glanced at her over his shoulder. "Why are you worried about Phoebe?" he asked.

Peter spoke up from where he sat in the middle seat next to Heidi. "My dreams." He coughed into his fist, then cleared his throat and continued. "I think she's in trouble. As soon as we get to this motel, I'm going to after her."

"No you're not," Nathan replied quickly. "You're in no condition to--"

"Nathan, I have to find her," said Peter, frowning. "She's in trouble. She needs me."

"And you need to rest," said Nathan, also wearing the Petrelli scowl.

"You know what? I'm going after her right now," said Peter, lifting his chin stubbornly.

Nathan met his brother's eyes steadily. "Peter."

"Just try and stop me." Peter closed his eyes, concentrating on one of his powers.

"If you try to teleport, you might end up in Zimbabwe for all you know," Nathan told him sharply. "And you being in Zimbabwe will do nothing for Phoebe."

Peter opened his eyes and tried to glare at his brother. His composure cracked, and he dropped his eyes. "You're right, Nathan." He hung his head with a shaky sigh.

"Well what _are _we going to do about Phoebe?" Heidi asked quietly. "Peter's dreams mean something, don't they? And now they're saying she's in trouble. We can't just leave her."

"We won't," said Nathan firmly. "_I'll _go after her." He turned around to face forward. "And that's final."

Heidi frowned and looked down at her lap, where she was subconsciously twisting her wedding ring around and around her finger. She turned to look at Peter. He was staring vaguely out the window with feverishly shiny eyes, tracing the paths of raindrops on the glass with his finger. He glanced at her, then, perhaps reading her mind, and shook his head.

Heidi looked quickly away. _Maybe _he _trusts them. But I don't. Not yet._

* * *

Will the Snatcher, the snatcher of wills, smiled up at the beautiful pine trees. Like him, they were ambitious, stretching toward the windy, cloudy sky, ever rising. They smelled good, too. He breathed deeply of the piny air as he walked through the forest.

Ah. There it was. The cabin. Smoke drifted sideways from the chimney, and Will could hear the pleasant ringing of chimes on the wind.

He leaned casually against one of the pines, confident that, very soon, his quarry would be in sight. And he would snatch her will.


	9. Whatever It Takes

_Previously on Heroes (Storm Clouds Gathering): _While Phoebe has bad dreams about him, Peter manages to stop the tornado from destroying the train. But it is too much for him, and he passes out. Fortunately, Nathan is there to catch him and quickly gets him back on the train, where Sasha uses her power to determine that he is having bad dreams about Phoebe. The train arrives safely in Portland, where Peter, Nathan, Heidi, and Sasha are met (to their surprise) by Noah Bennet, who has rented a van and reserved motel rooms. Peter insists on going to get Phoebe, but Nathan talks him out of it. Nathan plans to go after her instead. Meanwhile, Phoebe has decided to take an early morning walk, and Will the Snatcher is watching her...

This is a long chapter, beloved readers. The characters took my story and went running like crazy with it. It was probably the most fun to write so far. There will probably be a lot of questions left unanswered at the end of this chapter, but they will be resolved.

As always, thanks for reading and double thanks for reviewing!

_CHAPTER NINE_

Peter Petrelli was fighting to keep his breathing rhythmic and deep. For one thing, he was eaten up with worry for Phoebe. And for another thing, this wretched weakness was still threatening to send him into another blackout… He leaned his head against the back of the couch in the motel room he shared with Nathan. He wished that he could be the one to fly to Phoebe's aid; but instead, here he sat, feeling as if he would slip away if he did not concentrate hard on living, on breathing, on Phoebe. He closed his eyes.

"Don't _worry_, Heidi," he could hear Nathan saying, his voice laced through with frustration. "I'll be perfectly fine. No one has seen a future where I get killed by this--this danger that's threatening Phoebe."

Peter had to smile a bit at that. Trust Nathan to have something sarcastic to say…

"Nathan… I…" Heidi's voice was hesitant, shaky.

Peter suddenly got the feeling that she was more worried about Nathan's fidelity than his physical safety.

Nathan must have gotten that feeling, too. "Heidi… This isn't about me being safe, is it?"

Peter opened his eyes wearily and fixed them on the couple. Across the room, Sasha sat perched on the foot of one of the beds, her posture tense, her lips pressed into a frown. Noah was at the window, looking out with alert eyes framed by horn rims.

Heidi glanced sharply at her husband, then continued pacing, eyes fixed on the soft gray carpet. "Nathan, I don't know how to… to trust you anymore."

Nathan closed his eyes for a brief moment, a pained look touching his features. He sighed. "Heidi, do we have to do this in front of everyone?"

"If we don't 'do this' now, we may never get the chance," Heidi snapped, halting her pacing and standing akimbo. "Nathan, just tell me. How do you feel about Phoebe?"

Peter saw Sasha shake her head despairingly. He wondered why, and his wonderings were touched by panic. Sasha understood things through touch. She, of all people, probably knew the truth behind Heidi's suspicion. She had had the opportunity to make physical contact with everyone involved… _Stop it, Peter! There's no reason for you to be suspicious of Phoebe. Heidi's just paranoid._

Nathan faced his wife steadily, also standing akimbo. "Heidi, there is nothing… unwholesome between Phoebe and myself. We're friends, close friends, and that's all."

Heidi held his gaze. "Well the two of you seem to share a--a closeness that you and I don't have. Maybe we never had it. But you and Phoebe--you have it. What is she to you that I can't be?" There was desperation in her voice.

Peter leaned forward. If he wasn't feeling so dizzy, he would have jumped right into the conversation to defend Phoebe, but suddenly, all he felt like doing was listening.

"Heidi, I love her," Nathan said quietly.

Heidi looked away from him, folding her arms across her chest, lips pressed tightly together. Peter's eyes went sharply to his brother's face.

But Nathan was not finished. "She's--she's like my sister," said Nathan, calmly and sincerely. "That's what you could never be to me that she is--a sister. We talk and we tease and we laugh--and there's nothing--nothing at all--romantic about it." He looked around Heidi to where Peter sat, listening anxiously. "Not that she' s not attractive, Pete. I mean, she is. She's a--" He caught Heidi's look and stopped, clearing his throat. "Anyway, what I mean to say is, I could never love her the way I love--the way I love you." He looked down, his voice trailing off hoarsely.

Heidi looked at him again, her face unreadable to Peter. "Do you mean that? All of that?"

"Yes." Nathan threw up his hands. "As surely as I'm standing here in front of you, everything I've said is true. Can I go now? The girl is probably in a world of trouble by now, while we're standing here talking."

Heidi nodded tightly. "Go."

Nathan looked at her silently for a moment, then turned to face Peter. "I'll bring her back safely, Peter. I promise."

Peter rose shakily. Nathan opened his mouth to protest, but Peter held up a hand to silence him. "Thank-you, Nathan," he said quietly. He took a few wobbly steps forward until he could reach out and pull Nathan into an embrace. "Do whatever it takes to keep her safe," he whispered to his brother as they hugged.

"I will," Nathan replied firmly. His strong arms supported Peter, guiding him back to the couch. "I'll return as soon as I can," the elder brother declared. Then he walked to the window and flung it open.

* * *

Phoebe became entranced by the sunlight streaming through the pines, the sharp coolness in the breeze, and the calls of forest birds. With a pang, she realized that Peter would also appreciate the beauty of the Canadian forest and valley. Peter…

Abruptly, she stopped walking and sighed, leaning against the nearest pine tree. His absence disturbed her deeply. She wanted him beside her. She worried for his health and safety. She _needed _him so much it hurt.

"Phoebe, Phoebe. What are you going to do without Peter Petrelli to save you?"

Phoebe looked up sharply at the mocking voice, startled to see a man standing near her in the forest. He was deeper inside the treeline than she was, and he was a surprisingly young man, of medium height, slim, with unruly golden hair and slightly tilted eyes of some pale, indeterminate color. "Who are you?" Phoebe asked, backing away from him, toward the clearing. She raised a hand in front of her, preparing to use her power if necessary.

"The name's Will," the young man told her, bowing with flourish, his mouth stretched in a cocky grin.

"How do you know who I am?" Phoebe asked, taking another step backward.

"Not telling," Will said impishly, still grinning. He took a step toward her.

"Come any closer, and I'll fling you all the way to Iceland," Phoebe cautioned, her heart beating hard and heavy in her chest.

"You don't really want to do that, Phoebe," said Will calmly, taking another step forward.

And suddenly, she didn't. Frowning, confused at her own apathy, she lowered her hand. "No… I--I--" She caught herself and quickly raised her hand again. "What are you doing to me?"

"I'm snatching your will," said Will, making a snatching motion with his hand. "Every second, it's becoming less and less yours… and more and more mine."

A strong feeling of vagueness washed over Phoebe. Everything seemed blurry, even though she knew it really wasn't. And she was so tired, so very tired… "No! Stop it!" she shouted, shaking herself. She gathered her power, preparing to fling it at Will.

"No. _You _stop it," Will said calmly, raising one dark eyebrow.

And Phoebe did. With a sob, she felt her desire to fight back slip away.

Will chuckled softly. "You're mine, now." He raised one elegant hand and motioned to her. "Come with me. We're too close to the house right now."

Numbly, Phoebe followed Will deeper into the forest, stepping exactly where he had stepped before. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. Who was she? she wondered. Why did she feel so sad, as if something was missing?

"We're going to rest," Will told her. There was cruel amusement in his voice. "At least… _You _are." He led her to a small clearing, where the sunlight streamed beautifully through the trees onto a patch of deep green grass.

"Pretty," said Phoebe softly, vaguely.

Will reached out and took her hand, drawing her to the center of the clearing. "Kneel," he told her calmly.

She knelt in the grass, distracted for a moment by its coolness, its softness.

Will bent down and tilted her chin up so that she was looking directly into his pale, greenish-bluish eyes. "You desire nothing but sleep," he told her quietly.

Phoebe realized dimly that she needed to fight this command. She frowned. "No. That's not… That's not it." Why was it so hard to speak against his words?

Will sighed impatiently. "Phoebe, I admire your resolve. You're one of the hardest tasks I've undertaken so far. I feel…" He sighed again, a momentary look of guilt coming over his roguish features. "I feel almost bad about doing this to you. You're a nice girl."

"You _should_ feel bad," said Phoebe mutedly, somehow knowing that what she said was true. "You should stop doing to me whatever it is you're doing to me…"

Will hesitated, then suddenly returned to smiling mischievously. "Sorry. I can't do that." He straightned. "You really want to sleep. And that's all you want." Then he turned and walked away from her.

Phoebe knelt alone in the clearing, breathing. Hazily, she recalled that she should be fighting sleep. Sleep was her enemy. She had to find the others… What others? Why did she need to find them? She was so tired… So she closed her eyes and drifted, frozen in a kneel in the forest.

* * *

Peter's directions had been very clear. Nathan knew he was nearing the spot where Phoebe was in trouble. Landscapes rushed away beneath him, and the air was very cold, getting even colder the further north he flew. He finally spotted the forest Peter had described. It looked exactly as he had imagined it from his brother's words.

Now where was that clearing…?

Aha! Nathan slowed his speed of flight, circling above the clearing. Below, he could see a figure in pink and green, all alone in the exact center of the clearing. Whoever it was, they were not moving.

Taking a deep, worried breath, Nathan quickly landed in the clearing. To his relief, the person was Phoebe. To his concern, she did not look up upon his arrival.

"Phoebe!" he called. "It's me--Nathan. Get up. You're in danger."

Phoebe remained still, eyes closed. Her golden hair drifted on the wind. Her hands stayed locked tightly together on her lap.

A jolt of panic jerked through Nathan's bones. "Phoebe?" He took a step closer to her, then another, and another, until he was standing over her. "Phoebe, wake up!"

* * *

_Stop bothering. Stop bothering. Stop bothering!_

Phoebe frowned in her trance. She wished the voice would go away. She wanted to rest. She was so sleepy…

Then, abruptly, she remembered. She remembered a name. "Peter," she whispered, her voice light and breathy and hardly there at all.

"What?" came the voice.

She started to open her eyes, suddenly and inexplicably longing for the person behind the name. "Peter?" Her eyes were opened, and she saw a man standing above her, the sunlight shining out from behind him, so that he was merely a silhouette against the light. "Peter?" she asked again.

* * *

Nathan raised his eyebrows. What in the world was wrong with Phoebe? "No, not Peter," he said slowly. "It's _Nathan._" He chuckled. "If only Heidi were here to hear you say that…"

Phoebe's distant eyes clouded. "Oh," she said softly, dreamily. "It's _you_." For a moment, she smiled at him, and she was the Phoebe he knew. Then, suddenly, her face morphed into a blank expression. "I have to sleep," she told him. Then she closed her eyes.

"Phoebe, what happened? What's wrong with you?" Horrified at her condition, Nathan quickly knelt down in front of her, forcefully grabbing onto her shoulders.

"I want to sleep," she told him in that voice that barely sounded like Phoebe, that barely sounded alive. "I desire nothing else."

"Oh no." Nathan hung his head, anger, frustration, guilt, and sadness all vying for control of his heart. "I'm too late. Oh, God… Please…" He took a deep breath and looked back up at Phoebe. "Come on, Phoebe. Snap out of it." He gave her a shake.

She frowned lightly, but her eyes remained closed, and she made no sound.

"Phoebe!" He shook her harder.

Suddenly, a ragged sob tore from her throat, startling Nathan. "Nathan, please don't let me go!" This time, the voice was distinctly Phoebe, but her eyes stayed closed. "Don't let me drift away! I'm slipping. I'm slipping…"

"Stay with me, Phoebe!" Nathan exclaimed, tightening his grip on her as if he could physically force her will back into her body.

"Nathan, don't let me go!" she cried. "I can't fight it. He took my will… I can't…" She sighed heavily, hoarsely, then bowed her head, suddenly still.

"No, Phoebe!" Nathan shouted, shaking her hard. "Fight it!"

She was completely limp, slumping this way and that as he shook her.

Nathan drew her tight against his chest, shocked and terrified at how cold she was. "Come _on_, Phoebe. You have to wake up. You're stronger than this." Sighing and closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't want to lose you." He laughed sharply, grimly. "You're the only sister I've got."

"Sister…" The word came quietly from lips that barely moved.

"That's right, Phoebe," said Nathan quickly, patting her cheek gently. "You're like my little sister. You've gotta stay with me so you can marry Peter, and we can keep you in the family for good."

She frowned then and murmured, "Peter."

"That's right. Peter." Nathan's voice broke, and he had to fight to regain his composure. "He needs you, Phoebe. You have to come back to me so I can take you to him."

But she had slipped away again, drifted into nowhere.

Nathan swore. "I won't let you do this, Phoebe!" He slapped his hand hard against her cheek, wincing at the sharp smacking sound.

"Ow…" Still keeping her eyes closed, she reached a trembling hand to touch the reddening cheek.

"Wake up, darn it!" He shook her hard.

"No… Want to sleep… Don't want anything else…" She frowned and turned her face from the sound of his voice.

But Nathan was encouraged. At least she was responding. "Phoebe! Wake _up_!" he shouted.

She shook her head, and he could tell she was going to slip away again.

Muttering to himself, he caught her up firmly in his arms, bracing one hand behind her head. "This one's from Peter," he told her gruffly. "He told me to do whatever it takes, so I'm going to do what he would do." Then he kissed her hard on the mouth.

First, she did nothing. Then, to his shock, she started kissing him back. And then, her eyes flew open. He had never been so happy to see the color green.

"Phoebe!" he cried, releasing her from his embrace.

"You're not…Peter…" She raised one dark eyebrow and rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth.

"Sorry." Nathan winced. "I'm glad Heidi wasn't here to see that…"

"Nathan, what's going on?" She frowned, drawing back from him slightly.

"I had to do something to wake you up," Nathan explained. He shrugged. "That seemed to work."

"I feel so tired, so weird," she replied wearily. "What's wrong with me?"

"I think you were attacked," Nathan told her. He stood, gently helping her to her feet beside him. "In fact, I'm sure of it. You told me someone took your will."

Phoebe shook her head as if to clear it. "That might explain why I feel so numb…" She looked up at him, cheeks red. "Uhm… Thanks for bringing me out of… whatever I was in."

"You're welcome," said Nathan. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. Why on earth had he thought of kissing her? _Put that one on the list of 'weirdest ideas generated by a Petrelli…' _"We need to get you back to Peter now."

"Is he okay?" Phoebe asked, her eyes suddenly intense as she grabbed onto Nathan's arm.

"He's sick," said Nathan. "I think he needs you."

"I knew it!" Phoebe exclaimed. "I knew he was in trouble. I dreamed he was."

"Funny…" Nathan raised his eyebrows, amazed. "He had the same sort of dreams about you…"

"Nathan, take me to him," Phoebe demanded, her grip tightening on his arm. "He needs me." Suddenly, she blinked and swayed.

"I've got you," said Nathan, reaching out to steady her. "Maybe we should tell Hiro and Claire--"

"No, Nathan," Phoebe protested. "That man who attacked me… I don't think he was after them. Peter _needs _me _now_."

* * *

"Peter, are you okay?" Sasha asked worriedly. She was sitting next to him on the couch, and her hand had just brushed across his arm accidentally.

"I don't think so," Peter replied, his voice breathless. "I'm worried…about Phoebe."

"Me, too," said Sasha. "I'm also worried about you. You need medicine or something."

"I just need to know that Phoebe's okay." Peter stood shakily. "Maybe I should wait outside. Nathan will probably land--" The room seemed to spin suddenly, sickeningly. Peter wanted to throw up, but he could not move. He felt his knees start to buckle, so he knelt quickly, before he could fall.

"Peter?" Sasha's voice, sharp with worry, sent undulations of pain through his head.

Noah left his spot by the window to hurry to Peter's side. "Peter? What's wrong?"

Peter took a deep breath, but could not reply. That breath had not been enough. There wasn't enough air in it. There wasn't enough air in the room. There wasn't enough air anywhere.

"We have to get him to a hospital," said Heidi, kneeling beside Peter and Noah.

Peter doubled over, hugging himself tightly, focusing on each breath, achy pangs flashing through his body, accompanied by a vicious nausea. He could barely hear what the others were saying. His mind was crowded with thoughts of Phoebe. _Phoebe, where are you? _

Heidi's hand, cool and soothing, reached out and touched his forehead. "He's burning up."

"Phoebe…" Peter stumbled to his feet, amidst protests from Heidi and Noah. "I have to find her…" He staggered forward a few steps, then began to collapse. He reached out toward where he knew the wall should be, hoping to catch himself, but his hands caught at nothing. He was falling _through _the wall.

* * *

"Good thing I booked the room on the other side," said Noah casually as he and Heidi stood staring at Peter… Or at least, at Peter's legs. The rest of him had somehow gone through the wall.

Horrified, Heidi ignored Noah's comment and rushed to Peter's side. "Oh my--"

"That must be a new one for him," said Noah calmly. "Let's see if we can drag him back through."

"This is _crazy_!" Heidi burst out suddenly, hysterically. "My husband is _flying _to help his brother's girlfriend, who we know is in trouble because of my brother-in-law's _dreams_. And now, my brother-in-law himself has just passed out from some unknown ailment and fallen _through the wall_!'

"You seem to have a good grasp on the situation," Noah replied. He glanced over his shoulder at Sasha. "Sasha, follow the sound of my voice. We may need your help here."

* * *

In the end, they managed to pull Peter back into the hotel room. Sasha's power had come in handy in letting them know that Peter was, in fact, still alive and could, in fact, be dragged back through the wall without coming to harm. So now, the three of them stood beside one of the twin beds, where a very pale, very unconscious Peter Petrelli laid.

"I'm going to need Prozac after this," said Heidi, running a hand through her hair.

"A warm bubble bath would be nice," said Sasha, sighing.

The two women glanced at Noah. "This is pretty routine for me," he said with a shrug.

Suddenly, the figure on the bed stirred.

"Peter? Are you alright?" Heidi asked.

Peter frowned and slowly sat up, breathing harshly, one hand going to his chest to rest over his heart. "I feel… I feel a little bit better," he said, looking up at his three benefactors. "Did I just… Did I just fall through a wall?"

"You did," Noah replied with a nod.

"So I can… walk through walls now?" Peter's voice was laced with boyish wonder.

"It would seem so," said Noah. "You must have picked up the ability somewhere. As I recall, there were a few people in the Company files who had that ability."

"Whoa." Peter looked down at himself, then back up at the others. "I feel… better," he repeated. "I think maybe--"

All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door.

* * *

Phoebe was not quite as traumatized as she thought she would be from the hasty flight to Maine with Nathan. The politician had been very considerate of her the entire flight, but still… She shuddered as they started to land. This was the worst part. The feeling of gravity tugging at her insides had never appealed to her. She was the person who skipped out on the roller coasters at the fair…

"You can open your eyes now," came Nathan's amused voice.

Phoebe opened her eyes and sighed with relief to see that they were standing in a motel parking lot. "Thanks, Nathan," she said quietly as he set her down.

"You're welcome, Phoebe," he replied, patting her shoulder. "You look like you feel better."

Phoebe nodded. "I do. I think… I think it's something to do with Peter."

Nathan smiled crookedly. "Me, too. I think the two of you have some sort of special… bond."

Phoebe smiled back at him. "I think so. It's really strange, but… Yeah, I think we do."

"Come on." Nathan led her to the door of the room he was sharing with Peter, then raised his hand and knocked on it.

There were a few seconds of silence, and then--

"Phoebe!"

The door was flung open. Phoebe rushed inside into the waiting arms of Peter, who scooped her up and spun her in the air, then set her down and kissed her passionately.

Nathan raised his eyebrows. _Whoa. _

Noah, Heidi, and Sasha all gathered around the couple. Sasha hugged them, while Noah looked on with a knowing smile, as if perhaps, even without powers, he had deduced that this even would come to pass. Heidi glanced around them to where Nathan stood in the doorway. Quietly, she moved to stand before him.

"I… I know now that you were telling the truth," she said almost shyly, eyes lowered. "I mean… Look at them."

Nathan did look at them. And he grinned. Their joy at being reunited was contagious.

"Nathan."

He looked back at Heidi. This time, she was looking straight into his eyes.

"Nathan, I--"

"Nathan!" Peter rushed around Heidi to pull his brother into a hug. "Thank-you so much!"

Nathan found himself chuckling. "You're welcome, Pete. I only did what you would have done."


	10. The Dawning of Decisions

_Previously on Heroes (Storm Clouds Gathering): _After reassuring his wife that he loves Phoebe as a sister only and promising Peter to do whatever it takes to save her, Nathan takes off to save Phoebe from the will-drain of WIll the Snatcher, who has set her in a clearing sapped of her willpower. When Nathan gets to Phoebe, she is slipping away into a dangerous sleep. He does everything it takes--shakes her, slaps her, and eventually kisses her. Phoebe awakens and Nathan quickly flies her up into the air with him. Meanwhile, back at the motel, Peter is ailing. He passes out--and falls through a wall. HRG, Heidi, and Sasha care for him, and he makes a sudden recovery at Nathan and Phoebe's arrival. The heroes are reunited, except for Hiro and Claire, who still have no clue as to what is going on...

This is a short, transitional chapter, but full of character developments and that sort of good stuff. As always, thanks to my heroic readers and reviewers!

_CHAPTER TEN_

"What _I_ would have done?" Peter crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, suddenly curious. He knew what hewould have done… He narrowed his eyes on Nathan. "I'd like to know… exactly what happened."

Nathan seemed totally calm. He motioned past Peter. "Why don't you ask Phoebe?"

Peter glanced over his shoulder. Phoebe was standing in the midst of Sasha, Heidi, and Noah, animatedly discussing something, her dark brows lowered in concern. Peter turned back to Nathan. "I'd rather ask you right now."

Nathan shrugged casually. "Ask away."

"What happened to her, Nathan?" Peter asked quietly, leading his brother a few yards away from the others.

"She told me someone took away her will. A man," Nathan explained, frowning. "I think the whole thing is kind of fuzzy for her. She was… drifting away when I got there."

"She was alone?"

Nathan nodded. "Yes. She kept saying she wanted to just sleep." He shook his head, his expression grim. "Pete, I was scared she was going to slip away from me. She was completely out of it."

"So…" Peter tried to refrain his impatience. "What did you do?"

Nathan hesitated, narrowing his eyes momentarily, then explained. "Well, for one thing, I told her that I wasn't you. At first, she seemed to think I was you, come to rescue her."

Peter couldn't help but grin at that.

"Then she realized it was me, and she started to drift again, so I--so I shook her a bit, and she snapped out of it for just a second." Nathan's eyes darkened, as if he was remembering something that profoundly disturbed him. "She grabbed onto me and begged me not to let her go. She…" He sighed. "Then she was gone again, so… I did what I had to do." He paused, biting his lip and looking at Peter closely.

"And what was that?" Peter asked.

"Well, I--" Nathan sighed heavily. "Darn it, Pete, just read my mind and get it over with."

"Okay. I will," said Peter, dropping his arms to his side and closing his eyes as he concentrated on Nathan's thoughts. As soon as he read them, his eyes flew opened. "You _slapped _her!?" he hissed in a barely restrained whisper.

Nathan held up his hands, leaning backward from his brother. "I _had _to, Peter."

Peter moved closer to Nathan, until he was standing toe to toe with him. "And you _kissed _her! Did you have to do _that_, Nathan? Huh?"

Nathan looked as if he was not sure whether to laugh or fight back. He finally chose the middle ground. "I did," he told Peter firmly. His lips twitched with a repressed grin. "And it worked, didn't it?"

Peter sighed, a bit mollified. "Well… Yeah, but…" He frowned. "Why? Why _kiss_ her?"

Nathan shrugged, seeming annoyed. "I don't know, Pete. She was about to go into a coma right in front of me, and I had to think fast. I was upset. I was impatient. I was thinking of her, thinking of you." He threw up his hands. "It just… happened."

Peter nodded, rolling it over in his mind. He crossed his arms again, pensive. "And… She kissed you back."

Nathan raised his eyebrows. "Ah, yes… She did." He cleared his throat nervously. "Peter, she thought I was you." He gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. "You just saw it all in my mind. You know there was nothing… inappropriate about it."

Peter nodded, chewing on his lower lip.

"Pete, there's nothing to get upset about," Nathan told him quietly, placing both hands on the younger Petrelli's shoulders. "But there's plenty to be happy about. Phoebe is safe and--"

"Hiro and Claire!" Peter exclaimed, eyes widening.

* * *

"Phoebe?" Claire went to the bathroom door and knocked. "Phoebe, are you in there?" Frowning, she turned the door handle and pushed the door open. It swung into an empty room. Where was Phoebe?

"Phoebe Agnew! Cheerleader!" came a cheerful call from the other side of the bedroom door.

"Hiro, I can't find Phoebe," Claire called in reply. She felt, ridiculously, like checking under the bed, then decided that that would be… ridiculous. "We have to find her." She rushed to the door and flung it open.

Hiro stood just outside the bedroom with wide eyes. "What has happened to Phoebe Agnew?"

Claire shook her head, her face a study of worry. "I don't know. She was having bad dreams about Peter. Maybe--maybe she left to find him."

Hiro frowned. "But she cannot bend space and time!"

"What's going on here?"

Hiro spun around, and over his head, Claire saw Meredith standing in the hallway, arms crossed.

"Phoebe Agnew is missing," Hiro declared dramatically.

Meredith raised an eyebrow. "She probably just went for a walk or something. There's no need to be worried."

Claire shook her head. "I've got a bad feeling about this…"

"I know!" Hiro exclaimed brightly. "We teleport to location of Phoebe Agnew!"

"Isn't that a little overreactive?" asked Meredith, a troubled look darkening her features.

"Not with us," said Claire quietly. "We're always getting involved in… crazy situations."

"I see." Meredith gave a half smile, a bittersweet gesture. "Well, I'm glad I could answer your questions, Claire."

"Me, too," Claire replied. She lifted her chin as she stepped closer to Hiro. "And I have one more: Will you come with us?"

Meredith's eyebrows raised, and for a moment, she was quiet. Then she slowly shook her head. "Not this time, Claire baby."

"Why not?" Claire asked indignantly.

Meredith smiled slightly. "You said only one more question."

Claire sighed. "I did, didn't I?"

"Go on and find your friend," Meredith said. "Maybe someday…" She left the sentence unfinished, smiling at her daughter. "You're a real hero, Claire. And you, too, Hiro."

"Thank-you," said Hiro proudly.

Claire simply nodded and reached to place a hand on Hiro's shoulder. And then they were gone.

* * *

Almost as soon as the words "Hiro and Claire" were out of Peter's mouth, the two heroes appeared right in front of him, nearly knocking Nathan over backward.

"Peter--Where's Phoebe?" Claire exclaimed instantly, turning on her uncle and grabbing hold of his arms.

"She's fine, Claire," Peter told her. "Nathan went and got her."

Claire turned to face her biological father. "Why did you have to get Phoebe?" she asked with a confused frown. "What's going on?"

"She was in trouble," Nathan told his daughter gravely. "I had to do something. And Peter wasn't doing so well himself."

"This is big mess!" Hiro remarked, shaking his head.

"I think I can clear up some of it," said Phoebe, stepping forward. Everyone turned to face her. "Claire, Hiro… I did something really stupid. I've watched enough movies to know that it's never a good idea to go walking by yourself in the woods, and…" The jovial tone of her voice faded, and her green eyes darkened. "I was attacked."

"But you look fine, Phoebe Agnew," said Hiro.

"It wasn't really a physical attack," Phoebe explained. "This guy calling himself Will sort of… snatched my will. He made me want to sleep, so… I started to slip away. Then Nathan came and shook me out of it and flew me back here." She cast the politician a grateful smile.

"This is really strange," said Claire, crossing her arms. "Why didn't he attack us, when we were so close by? And why didn't--?" Her eyes widened as she suddenly realized who was standing behind Phoebe. "Dad!!"

Noah smiled at her. "Claire. I'm glad you're alright."

"Dad, what are you doing here!?" Claire exclaimed.

"I think we'd better take this inside," Noah told her calmly.

She frowned, confused.

"Looks like rain," said Noah.

They all looked up at the sky. And indeed, it was darkening with clouds.

Peter shivered involuntarily and thought of the weatherman…

* * *

"Where are you going?" asked Nathan, looking up from the travel magazine he had found in the motel. Peter had emerged from the bathroom fully dressed, with that serious look on his face Nathan knew meant trouble.

"I'm sleeping in Phoebe and Claire's room," said Peter determinedly. "I don't think Phoebe's over the shock of her attack yet, so… I want to be there to let her know that she's safe now."

Nathan stared at Peter for a second, then smiled slightly. "Good. I'm proud of you, Pete."

"Thanks." Peter grinned, then moved toward the door. He hesitated for a moment before turning the handle. "Hey, Nathan… Thanks for everything today." He turned to face his brother, his dark eyes filled with warmth and sincerity. "I owe you."

Nathan shook his head, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "No you don't. I've given up on keeping tabs. We've saved each other's lives so many times I've lost count. "

"Yeah, but this time… This time, it was Phoebe."

"I know," said Nathan, the jovial tone fading from his voice.

"So I _really _owe you," Peter said fervently.

"Peter, Phoebe is my friend," Nathan said, raising an eyebrow. "There is no way I would have left her out there to die. You don't owe me anything."

Peter smiled suddenly, crookedly. "You watch your back, Nathan. I might just sneak up on you and save your life sometime soon."

Nathan grinned. "We'll see about that."

* * *

Heidi sat up in bed, suddenly cold inside. She swung her legs to the edge of the bed and stood slowly and quietly, glancing over at Sasha, who was sleeping soundly in the other bed. Silently, she made her way across the room to where her white silk robe was draped over the back of a chair. She slipped it on her shoulders, praying that she was doing the right thing. She took a deep breath as she slipped her feet into dainty bedroom slippers. This had to be right.

Shaking inside and out, she crept toward the door. Before she could reach for the handle, she caught a sudden glimpse of herself in the motel room's floor length mirror. She stopped, breathing heavily, and stared at her reflection, hazy in the dim light streaming from the half-opened bathroom door. She looked pale and haunted, she thought, standing there in a short, low cut silk negligee, pearly white, with her matching robe and slippers. _No, I look haunt_ing, she thought with a wry smile. _Like a ghost who's afraid of herself…_

Her breath caught at the thought.

She _was _afraid of herself, afraid of what she was going to do.

Then she thought of him, thought of his eyes and his voice and his hands and his smile. And she remembered. Closing her eyes and sighing, she remembered.

Then she opened her eyes and faced her reflection determinedly. "It can be that way again," she whispered to herself. "It _will _be that way again."

Straightening her shoulders, she slipped quietly out of the motel room and made her way down the sidewalk, to the door of another room. She knew he would be alone. She had watched Peter go to Phoebe and Claire's room. Of course Peter would do that. He was Peter. He would always protect Phoebe and Claire.

So Nathan was alone.

Heidi knocked on the door before she even realized what she was doing. This was suddenly not a scary thing to do. It was suddenly natural. It was right. _We're married, darn it._

After a few moments, the door slowly swung inward.

Heidi caught her breath. Nathan was standing there in the doorway in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms. His hair was ruffled from sleep. His eyes were narrowed in confusion.

"Heidi? What are you--?"

"Sh. Don't." She placed a finger on his lips with one hand and pushed him back into the room with the other, stepping around the door and closing it behind her.

Nathan gently removed her hand from his lips and held it. He was blinking rapidly. "What are you doing here?" he asked quickly.

"I'm your _wife_, Nathan," said Heidi quietly.

"Yes. I know that. But--"

Heidi moved closer to him and slid her hands up to his shoulders. "I remember, Nathan," she whispered, her voice catching slightly. "I remember the way we were. I remember…" She blinked back sudden tears, tears of passion, of regret, of forgiveness, of love. "I remember how I loved you."

"Heidi…" There was not much else he could say. He just stood there, staring at her in her white robe and gown. She looked beautiful and brave and… strangely bridal. So he swept her into his arms and kissed her.

* * *

Peter had a sudden feeling that something wrong had been made right. He smiled as he drifted into dreams on the couch of Phoebe and Claire's room. The dreams that took him became visions of the future…

* * *

John Shoe nervously watched the dark man pace. The dark man was angry.

"I half expected our weather man to fail. His ego is disproportionate to his skills, but _you_? _You,_ Will?" The dark man shook his head and faced the blond man. "I expected much more from you."

"We were too close to the cabin, sir," said Will nonchalantly. "If I had done anything more drastic, the others might have noticed and stopped me."

"Well someone stopped you anyway, didn't they?" growled the dark man.

John closed his eyes and turned back to the late night television show he had been watching. He hoped the dark man would not notice him, hoped he would not be chosen for the next mission. He knew now that he had to get away from these people--and fast. They would help him, he was sure, but not after exacting a price. And if that price was his personal integrity, his sense of justice, or his loyalty to his friends, he would not pay it.


End file.
